


The Art of Wishful Thinking

by beckonedbyhopes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 96,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckonedbyhopes/pseuds/beckonedbyhopes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry is the new kid Louis can't figure out, Zayn keeps making exceptions for Liam, and Niall just wants everybody to get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> newbie writer here! wow okay this started out as just a little self-indulgent fic idea waaay back when I was starting to really get into one direction fandom. it has since spiraled out of control and ended up a lot longer than I had planned.
> 
> (heads up for some harry/ofc in the first chapter)

Sophie held a finger to her lips. “Shhh.” She stumbled a second later, dissolving into giggles.

Harry gave her a lazy grin and let himself be pulled him down the deserted hallway. His eyes tracked the swish of her skirt that was definitely a few inches above dress code and he couldn't help but slow down as they rounded the next corner, letting go of her hand and pressing her up against the wall instead.

He swayed forward and their lips met, Sophie winding her hands through his hair. Harry relaxed into her, gripping her hips and deepening the kiss.

Sophie broke away for a breath. “Harry,” she mumbled. “Come on—” She turned her head to the side and Harry tucked his face against her neck, mouthing at it sloppily. She giggled before pushing him back. “Stop it. Do you want to get caught?”

Harry leaned away with a soft groan, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout. In the back of his mind he knew making out in the middle of the hall, deserted or not, probably wasn't the smartest idea. But then again he wasn't exactly sober enough for good decision making at the moment.

Sophie shook her head and intertwined their fingers, pulling on his hand again. “Not here. Come on, we're almost there.”

“Where are we going?”

“The old staff room.”

Harry let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, draping himself over her. “And how exactly are we getting into the staff room?” He purposely brushed his mouth against the shell of her ear as he spoke.

Sophie stopped and turned to face him. She was leaning against the door behind her, a coy expression on her face. “With these.” She produced a set of keys from seemingly nowhere and jangled them quietly.

Harry returned her grin. “Soph, you are absolutely—”

“Amazing, I know,” she said with an exaggerated hair toss, preening a bit. “Just a perk of being the headteacher's daughter, I suppose." Sophie flipped through the keys, looking for the right one. "They pushed back construction again so the whole wing should be clear for the rest of the week at least. And the best part is”—she unlocked the door and opened it with a flourish—“it has a sofa.”

Harry made an impressed sound and stepped inside.

Sophie shut the door behind them and advanced, pushing him up against the back of the sofa. “Now”—she leaned forward until their lips were a breath away from touching—“where were we?”

Harry slid his hands down her back until his fingers dipped into the tight waistband of her skirt. “I believe,” he whispered, pulling out the small plastic bag from where she'd hidden it, “that we were just about to finish what we started.”

Sophie smirked and plucked the bag out of his hands. “Harry Styles, I like the way you think.”

+

Harry leaned over Sophie, his hands digging into the sofa as he pressed slow kisses across her stomach.  He was content with that for the moment, enjoying the pleasant buzz coursing through his body.

However, Sophie seemed to have other ideas—there was an insistent tugging on his hair as she urged him upwards. Harry went easily and their mouths met in a messy kiss, Sophie immediately reaching for his trousers.

She undid the top button and then paused, her hand barely under the waistband of his pants. “Do you hear something?”

Harry made a quiet disagreeing noise and wriggled his hips in an attempt to get Sophie's attention back to more important things. Like the awesome sex they could be having.

“No I think- shit!” Sophie shoved Harry up off of her just as the door to the staff room opened.

“Once that's finished, we can...”

Harry lifted his eyes as the voice trailed off. Standing in the doorway was a man he didn't recognize. But more importantly at the moment, standing next to him was the headteacher, Mr. Harris.

Mr. Harris frowned. “Styles?” He glanced around the room. “What are you doing in here?”

Harry's mouth twitched, trying to hide his smirk. _Well this ought to be interesting._

The headteacher's frown deepened as his eyes settled back on Harry. “And why the hell aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Harry kept silent, staring at Mr. Harris until his eyes lit up in comprehension and disapproval.

“I swear Mr. Styles, I warned you at the beginning of the school year. You and whoever your pick of the week is—”

Harry let out a little snort. He glanced down at Sophie, who was frantically trying (and failing) to find her shirt as silently as possible.

Mr. Harris cut off abruptly, nostrils flaring. He peered at Harry's hooded, slightly red eyes, glanced at the open window, and sniffed again. “Are you—” Mr. Harris' expression contorted with anger, his face turning a blotchy red. “Are you high?!”

Harry didn't bother to hide his smirk this time, but before he could reply he heard a soft pained noise beside him. Distracted, he glanced down at Sophie, who had apparently given up on her quest to find her shirt. Instead she was just staring off to the side as if she was trying to pretend none of this was happening. Her cheeks looked wet.

_Is she crying?_

An uneasy feeling twisted in Harry's stomach. Like perhaps he was missing something important.

Mr. Harris strode forward. “And who is the idiot that decided to join you this ti—” Mr. Harris froze as he looked over the edge of the sofa, all color draining from his face.

And as Harry took in his current situation—shirtless with his trousers unbuttoned and sagging, kneeling between the bare legs of the headteacher's daughter as she stared up at her father, horrified, and only in her bra, all with the sweet tang of marijuana smoke in the air—he realized that this time he might have gone a bit too far.

Harry supposed he should thank that other man (a contractor, he later found out) for pulling Mr. Harris off of him before he could land a good punch.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry tried to hide his flinch as he heard his bedroom door open.

_Are we starting the yelling again already?_

Over the past couple days his parents had expressed their anger and frustration, loudly, and for what felt like hours at a time. First it would be his mum. Then Robin. Then his mum again. Then both of them together. Harry wasn't sure what else they had to say. He got the point. He messed up. Badly.

Harry saw his mum standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. He turned away and stared blankly out the window even as he felt the bed dip beside him.

“What are we going to do with you?”

Harry tried to ignore the guilt churning in his stomach from hearing the sadness in her voice. He looked down, toying with the leather bracelet around his wrist.

Anne sighed. “Harry, you promised.” She reached over, drawing him closer to her.

Harry released a shaky breath and buried his face in her shoulder. Quiet disappointment was always worse than yelling.

“I thought this summer was just a phase. A little bit of teenage rebellion.” Her voice was quiet and sounded distant. “You've always been a good kid. But then you started going out more and staying out later. Some nights I felt lucky if you came home at all, let alone gave me the simple courtesy of a phone call.”  Her arm tightened around him unconsciously. “And sometimes when you did finally stumble in you'd be so drunk you could barely talk, and more than once you weren't alone.”

Harry ducked his head even more and shifted on the bed, pulling his knees up against his chest.

This summer his mum had caught him with his pants down (literally, unfortunately) more times than he would've liked to admit. Granted, most instances he'd been too drunk to remember much (which was also probably the reason he thought trying to sneak someone into his house at 3am was a good idea in the first place), but it was still enough to make his face burn with embarrassment.

“And now drugs? At school?” Anne cupped his cheeks with her hands, making him face her. “What were you thinking?”

Harry shrugged and lowered his eyes, looking away. “I don't know.” he said, his voice barely audible. It was the same thing he'd been saying all day.

He didn't know, not really. It seemed like one second he was just hanging out with Liam, playing video games in his living room and the next he was doing body shots off the hot girl from his bio class and getting blown by the footie captain behind the gymnasium.

“What happened? Why—” Anne's voice broke and she looked away.

Harry's heart sunk. The last thing he ever wanted to do was make his own mum cry.

Things had just changed. Harry had never been particularly unpopular. He was friendly and got along with everyone. He had a good group of friends plus Liam, who he'd been best friends with since forever. But Harry had always been that cute, goofy kid, who flirted and charmed everyone, but who no one actually took seriously.

That is until near the end of Year 10 when he got a tad taller, his voice dropped a little lower, and he let his hair grow out a bit. Then suddenly his charms were less 'class clown' and more 'class heartbreaker'.

“I know you're young,” Anne continued, regaining some of her composure. “That you don't get it. But not knowing where you were or if you were passed out in a ditch somewhere. Just seeing my son disappear before my eyes and having nothing work…”

“Mum I—” Harry pressed his face against her shoulder again. He couldn't look at her.

To Harry it seemed like everyone had wanted his attention, people he'd never even said more than 'hello' to. So maybe it went to his head. But it was exciting and new and fun—the freedom, the parties, the girls, the boys, the sex.

He thought he had a handle on it.

“I'm sorry.” Harry didn't know what else to say.

Anne took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “We've talked to Mr. Harris. He wanted to expel you, of course.”

Harry tensed. It wasn't unexpected, but hearing it aloud made it seem all the more real.

“But he won't, obviously, considering he'd have to give his daughter the same punishment. He will have to suspend you for awhile however, as well as bar you from extracurriculars and all school-sponsored events.”

Harry grimaced, but his shoulders relaxed. _Better than being expelled. Or arrested._

“And after some conversation, he saw that it would be best for _everyone_ if the specific details of what happened were left off the record, especially considering we're not pressing charges after he _attacked_ _you_.” His mum said the last bit through clenched teeth, clearly still seething at the thought of someone putting their hands on her youngest child.

“However,"—she swallowed—"Robin and I have decided that it would be best to go a different route.”

Harry stiffened at her hesitant tone, an uneasy feeling washing over him.

“We think you need a break from Holmes Chapel.”

Harry wrenched himself out of her arms and blinked, staring at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean a break?”

Anne took a deep breath. “It'll be good for you to have some new surroundings. Haslington is a great school—”

“Haslington?” Harry repeated in a strangled voice. _“The grammar school?”_

Anne nodded. “We thought about sending you there a couple years ago, you did so well on your exams, but Gemma had done just fine at Holmes Chapel and Liam was going there too—”

“You're sending me away?”

Anne rubbed a hand over her face. She looked exhausted. “We've already spoken to their headmaster. Usually they don't do things this way, but they still had open spots and considering the special circumstances he's agreed to take you. It's conditional on a six week probation period—”

“It's an all boys' school.” Harry was leaning forward, his hands braced on the bed.

Anne's mouth tightened, her gaze hard. “Well I think a break from girls is an excellent idea at the moment, don't you?”

Harry returned her stare with a fierce glare of his own. “Haslington is almost an hour away. How am I supposed to get there every day?”

Anne inhaled and her eyes dropped away from his. “Your cousin Natalie lives close and she's agreed—”

“My cousin Na—” Harry cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair.

_This is not happening._

Harry was born in Holmes Chapel. His whole life was here.

_Are they actually sending me away?_

His hands clenched, fingers digging into the bed. Harry hadn't been the best son these past few months, but he never thought it would come to this.  Worst of all was his surprise at how much it hurt.

“So that's it then,” Harry said, his voice carefully neutral. “You know mum, I get that it hasn't been the easiest with me lately, but you haven't always been perfect either. I just never thought you'd actually get rid of me.”

Anne's face dropped and she shook her head in protest. “Harry…”

Harry didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear her excuses, or watch her cry. He didn't want to acknowledge the guilt and helplessness in her voice.

_She doesn't want to deal with me anymore? Well fine._

He stood and stuck his feet into the trainers at the edge of his bed.

“What— wait, where are you going?”

Harry grabbed his mobile off his desk, shoving it in his pocket. “No worries mum, you and Robin have made yourselves crystal clear. Why don't I just get a head start in disappearing from your lives?”

Harry strode out of his bedroom, ignoring her calls after him. He ran down the steps and out of the house before anyone could stop him.

In the back of his mind he knew it was childish and stupid. He was actually running away from home for god's sake. Obviously this was the best way to show them he was mature and didn't need to be hidden away like some dirty secret.

_I don't care._

The sting of the betrayal, from his own mum no less, still hurt. So he would walk until it hurt a little less.

Maybe until he figured out how he let everything go to shit in the first place.

+

Harry wasn't sure how long he'd been gone, but it was long enough that “the sting of betrayal” was no longer sufficient to cover up how ridiculously cold it was.

Apparently English weather didn't care that it was still supposed to be summer.

Harry stopped at the corner of the street and sat on the curb. _Great idea, Harry. Now what?_

It had already been dark when he left home and now it was past midnight. And while Holmes Chapel wasn't exactly the crime capital of the country, he didn't really want to spend the night on the pavement.

Harry shivered and rubbed his arms in an attempt to drive the numbness away. He was tired, he was hungry, he was freezing, and all he wanted to do was curl up in a warm bed. But he refused to crawl back home.

He pulled out his mobile, grateful that he at least had the foresight to bring it, if not a jumper. He scrolled aimlessly through his contacts.

It was pointless really. He already knew that most of them were “friends” he'd made recently, none of whom he wanted to call in this situation. He didn't feel like partying right now and on the off chance that one of them would actually come pick him up, they'd probably just want to hear all about the Sophie incident and he didn't want to talk about that either.

Harry paused at one name, his finger hovering over the 'call' icon. He chewed his bottom lip. _What if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if he doesn't even pick up?_

Harry pressed 'call' before he could psych himself out of it. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited ring after ring.

“Hello?” a voice answered, sounding sort of breathless. A wave of relief came over him. _He picked up. He doesn't hate me._

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then he had another terrifying wave of doubt.

_What if he's already deleted me from his contacts? What if he just thinks it's some random number? What if he has no idea it's me?_

“Hello?” they asked again, sounding more concerned this time.

It seemed like it'd been so long since Harry had heard their voice. The familiarity of it was almost painful and a sense of shame overcame him.

Harry heard murmuring in the background.

“What? No.” The voice sounded muffled as if they were talking to another person in the room. “Yes! Okay, just—”

He heard the sound of a door slamming and then silence.

“Harry?” they asked tentatively.

A lump formed in the back of Harry's throat and he blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the stinging sensation in his eyes. _He does know it's me_.

Abruptly, Harry was angry on his behalf. _Why would he even answer my call? He has to know it won't be anything good. He shouldn't sound so concerned._

Harry certainly hadn't given him the same courtesy. No, instead Harry tossed him away like some old broken toy, like he had never cared for him at all.

“Harry,” they repeated, this time with more urgency.

Harry took a deep breath in an effort to keep his panic at bay. _What do I say?_ _Should I apologize? What exactly does someone say to their best friend who they just spent the last three months ignoring?_

“Harry, say something you arse!”

Harry let out a startled bark of laughter at the strangeness of hearing Liam swear and hastily wiped at his eyes, trying to pull himself together.

“Li—” Harry choked out. He heard Liam let out a sigh of relief. “Liam, I- I'm sorry. I really messed up this time.”

“Where are you?”

“I should've- and now they're- Liam I'm sor—”

“Harry.” He sounded tired. “It's almost one in the morning. Your mum's been calling on and off for the past two hours and I have boxing training in the morning. Where. Are. You?”

Harry stilled. _Boxing training. Of course._ He swallowed and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “The corner of Station and Manor,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “Near the Clocktower buildings.”

“Stay there.”

Liam hung up.

+

Harry was still sitting on the curb when Liam finally pulled up in his parents' car. Hesitantly, Harry stood and peered into the window.

Liam was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. But at least he was alone.

For the first time in awhile Harry was grateful Holmes Chapel was so small. It was probably the only reason Liam got his parents to let him drive out here by himself. As much as Harry loved Mr. and Mrs. Payne, he didn't want to deal with any adults right now.

Harry opened the door and slid into passenger seat, still staring at Liam from the corner of his eye. “Thanks.”

Liam gave a short nod and pulled away from the curb. Eventually, he glanced at Harry. “My house?”

Harry let out a soft sigh of relief, giving him a small grin. “Yeah.” He'd been afraid Liam would try and take him back home. Harry started chewing his bottom lip again, staring out the window.

There was a time he'd known he was always welcome at Liam's house.

Harry glanced over at Liam who was still staring straight ahead, his face blank. The only clue he was upset was the way his knuckles were turning white from gripping the steering wheel so tight. Harry took a moment to study him, that ache of familiarity overtaking him again.

Neither of them spoke as Liam drove, but the tension ratcheted up with every passing second. Soon it was so thick Harry felt as if there was no air left in the car.

_I can't do this._

“Stop,” he croaked out.

Liam's eyes flickered over to him, startled by the broken silence.

“Just- stop. You don't have to do this. I can tell you're upset with me.  Just let me out or—”

Liam rolled his eyes, taking the next corner sharply. “No.”

Harry blinked, his mouth clicking shut.

“I get to be mad at you, Harry.” Despite the firmness he was trying to insert into his voice, Liam still sounded a bit unsure.

“After how you— I get to be upset.” Liam's voice started to rise. “Even when I'm really glad that we found you okay because your mum's been panicked for ages and no one knew where you were because you _ran off in the middle of the night_ and didn't call anyone or let anyone know you were alright, I still get to be angry with you,” he finished in a rush. He huffed. “And you're just going to have to _sit_ _here_ and let me be angry at you.”

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched involuntarily as he tried not to smile. Nothing was remotely funny about this situation, but he'd just sounded so _Liam_ right then. Harry had missed this. He'd missed Liam, lectures and all.

“I'm not just going to leave you out here on your own. I'm still your—” Liam cut himself off.

Harry felt his heart lift as he realized what Liam had been about to say. _I'm still your best friend._

Liam wasn't lost forever then. Harry still had a chance to make things right. But this whole time Harry had been worried that Liam might not want to be friends with him anymore. It never occurred to him that Liam might feel like Harry didn't even want Liam's friendship.

“You are you know,” Harry said quietly, replying to Liam's unasked question. “My best friend.”

Liam only nodded, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen at least a little bit.

+

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, hoping their slight trembling wasn't obvious as he followed Liam into his house. Normally he loved Liam's parents, but he didn't want a confrontation right now. Harry stifled a groan. He hoped his mum or Robin hadn't decided to come round to Liam's house instead.

They walked into the kitchen where Liam's mum, Karen, was sitting at the table, her hands cupped around a mug of tea. She was in a dressing gown and slippers, her shoulders hunched tiredly. Harry felt a fresh wave of shame come over him.

Karen caught sight of them and stood, a small, weary smile on her face. “Harry,” she said in that relieved, reproachful tone that only mothers could do.

Harry lowered his eyes, unable to help ducking his head. He heard her sigh and walk over to him.

“I take it that you would not like to call your parents and talk to them?”

Harry glanced up at her through his lashes and shook his head slowly.

“Alright then.” She ruffled his hair. “I'll give Anne a call and let her know you're safe and that you're staying for the night.”

Harry's whole body slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” she murmured, sweeping past him. She gave Liam a kiss on the cheek as she went by. “Go on to bed boys.” The both of them started up the stairs.

“Oh and Harry?” Harry paused near the bottom of the steps, looking over to her. “We're glad you're okay,” she said softly before disappearing into the living room. Harry stared after her for another moment and then went to catch up with Liam.

They got ready for bed in near silence. Harry was starting to wonder if it would ever be like it had been. He'd known Liam since he was four and it was the weirdest sensation, feeling this awkward around someone you considered practically family.

Harry shifted from foot to foot, waiting in the middle of the room as Liam slipped into his bed. For as long as he could remember they'd always shared a bed when he slept over. Harry had never given it much thought—Liam's bed was big and Harry was never one to balk at a little friendly cuddling—but the arrangement seemed oddly personal now.

Liam curled up on his side, facing away from Harry and a few moments passed before he looked over his shoulder in confusion. Seeing Harry glancing helplessly around the room, Liam gave a faint laugh of disbelief and pushed the duvet back.

“Get in you idiot.” Liam waited for Harry to lie down and then reached over and turned off his lamp.

Harry stared up at the ceiling. _I can't sleep like this._ There was too much going through his mind. _I don't want it to be like this._

“I meant it you know,” Harry whispered.

“Meant what?”

“When I said I was sorry.”

Liam was quiet for so long that Harry wondered if he'd decided to just go to sleep. Instead, Liam turned over, staring at him. “What happened?”

Harry turned to face Liam as well. “With which part?”

Liam shrugged. "I don't know. Everything.” Harry's eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see Liam frowning. “I leave for ten days to go on holiday. Ten days! And I come back and you're—you're _gone_.”

Harry swallowed, the guilt that had been gnawing at him coming back in full force.

Liam huffed. “You've always had terrible self-control. It's like you've never heard of having too much of a good thing.”

Harry nudged Liam with his elbow. “That's why I need you around.” He gave Liam a small, hopeful grin.

Liam was still giving him a serious look, but after a few moments he relented, smiling back. “That's right, you do.”

That was the way their relationship had always worked. Harry pulled Liam out of his shell and got him away from his comfort zone. He was forever insisting that Liam took too much too seriously and needed more fun in his life. In turn, Liam reined Harry in whenever he started to go too far and helped him focus when it came to the important stuff. Liam insisted that there was nothing wrong with being careful and that Harry could do with a little 'look before you leap'. Secretly, they were both grateful for the others' role in their lives.

Liam sighed. “I don't understand what changed. We always hung out together. You never had a problem dragging me to parties before.”

“Honestly”—Harry took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully—“most of the time I didn't let myself think about it. I know we talked a few times when you got back, but then even that was too much for me to handle.”

Harry started anxiously biting the back of his index finger, muffling his voice. “I suppose I knew if I saw you, you'd give me that look and I would know. I'd know that it was too much and I was going too far and that you were right and—”

Harry's voice dropped even further. “And I didn't want to stop. I was happy thinking my mum was exaggerating and Gemma was just jealous and all those people I was hanging around were the best people ever.” He took another deep breath and looked at Liam straight on. “I am really sorry. I never meant to ditch you. You're my best friend.”

Liam glanced down, fiddling with the edge of the sheet. “You're my best friend too,” he mumbled. “But what am I supposed to do when my best friend abandons me out of nowhere? The first few weeks of summer I'd convinced myself that you hated me. That I'd done something wrong.”

“You didn't do anything—”

“I know that,” Liam bit out. “After awhile it was obvious that you'd gone off the deep end or something. Your mum was frantic. And who do you think got the calls wondering what had happened to you and where you were and who you were hanging around?”

Harry winced.

Liam shifted, pushing himself up on his elbow. “Me. I did, Harry. And I had nothing to say to her because I didn't know anything! Because you—” He exhaled harshly, flopping down onto his back. “Because you shut me out.”

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._ But what was Harry supposed to do when apologies weren't enough?

“I let all the attention get to my head. I'm sorry. I won't make the same mistake again.” Harry curled in on himself, thinking about how much worse things could've gotten if he hadn't had Liam for a friend. “You've always been there for me,” he said, his voice sounding small.

Liam sighed and moved closer to him. “And I'll always be there for you. Even when you're being a prat.” Harry relaxed slightly and Liam nudged him, getting him to look up. “I overheard our mums talking. Is it true? Are you really getting sent away?”

Harry rolled onto his back, blowing out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Where?”

“Haslington.” He said the name like it was an infectious disease.

Liam tried to stifle his laugh. “Haslington? That's rough, mate.”

Harry groaned. “I know. Don't remind me.”

Liam sobered a bit. “It's not that far away. So they're a bit stuffy. It's still a good school. Maybe it won't be so bad.” He wrinkled his nose. “Besides I think going back to Holmes Chapel is not the best idea right now.”

Harry turned on his side to face Liam, waiting for him to explain.

“Ever since you left Mr. Harris has been on a rampage. Well strict. I don't even want to think about what he'd do if he actually had to see your face again. That and you're pretty much the biggest story of the year right now.” Liam paused, pressing his lips together.

“Actually, the way people were talking I expected you to have two black eyes and a broken arm or something. The rumors have been mad. He didn't really hit you, did he? I heard he caught you in his office with Sophie on top of you, right in the middle of things.”

Harry rolled his eyes, letting out a puff of laughter. “Nah.”

“I never get how that stuff always gets so exaggera—”

“It was the staff room.”

Liam's eyes widened. “The- what?”

“Not the new one, the old one over where they're remodeling the hallway. And he didn't actually hit me. I mean I'm sure he would have after he tackled me to the ground, but the contractor grabbed him before he could get a good swing in.”

Liam gaped at him.

“And with Soph, technically _I_ was on top of _her_. And we weren't 'in the middle of it'. Not really. She had already unbuttoned my trousers though. And we'd taken off our tops.”

“Harry!”

“What? She had her bra on.” The two stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

“Only you, Harry,” Liam murmured after he caught his breath.

Harry shook his head, still smiling slightly. “I did feel horrible after though. You should've seen his face.” Harry's smile disappeared and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “You should've seen _her_ face. We were so high. We'd skipped maths to go smoke and then we smoked again in the staff room. It was bad.”

He glanced at Liam. “Is Soph okay?” The two of them hadn't been dating or anything, just having a bit of fun, but that didn't mean Harry didn't care what happened to her.

Liam shrugged with one shoulder, averting his eyes. Harry got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You know how people talk, Harry.”

Harry swallowed. Yeah, he knew how people talked, especially in small towns, especially about girls, and especially about the ones who liked to 'just have a bit of fun'.

Liam gave him an awkward, sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “If it helps at least she's not here to hear it. No one's seen her since actually. I think she got sent away to a different school, like you.” Liam shifted under the covers and pulled them up around his shoulders. “Maybe wherever it is will be better for her than here anyway.”

Harry slunk down as well, tugging the duvet up higher. “Yeah. Maybe.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes before Harry asked the one last question burning in his mind. “So... friends again? Am I forgiven?”

Liam sighed and threw an arm around him, dragging him close. Harry relaxed, snuggling into Liam's loose embrace.

“You were always forgiven,” Liam said, his voice muffled by Harry's curls.

Harry grinned into Liam's shoulder, glad to have his best friend back.

“But next time you decide to act this stupid I'm dragging you to boxing training with me. And there will be punching involved.”

Harry let out a bark of laughter. “Sure thing, Li.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention!!! *waves hands* there was some confusion about this part later on so I just wanted to make sure everyone read it haha
> 
> This fic starts out focusing on Harry and then branches out, so the first few chapters are more Harry/Louis focused then Liam/Zayn focused. Then it sort of alternates between the two once all five boys have met.
> 
> (ie neither Ziam nor Larry is a side pairing and once I switch to ziam I will be focusing on it for a bit to even things out)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will have multiple povs, which I know some people hate, but for some reason I love it a lot. HOWEVER, the “having part of the same scene from two different povs” thing will only happen this chapter and a tiny bit in chapter 18, because I do actually find that annoying if it’s done repetitively.

Harry reached down to play with his bracelets, twitching in surprise when his fingers met a solitary leather band. An irritated sound escaped his throat, earning him a pointed look from the receptionist in return. He slumped down further in his chair and avoided her eyes. Harry had forgotten he'd taken all but his favorite one off in order to comply with Haslington's “no excessive jewelry” policy. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

This school sucked already.

Then again, his whole life seemed to suck at the moment. Things were still tense between him and his parents: they hadn’t gotten over Harry’s change in behavior and Harry was still upset they'd sent him away. After he got home from Liam's he spent the next two days packing up most of his stuff and refusing to say any more than necessary to them. Then on Saturday his mum drove him up to Haslington and that was that. The end of his life as he knew it.

_Stop being dramatic. It's not that bad._

At least Harry had the chance to fix things with Liam before he left. They'd promised to keep in touch and visit each other when they could. There were plenty of buses that went between Holmes Chapel and Haslington.

Living with Natalie wouldn't be a nightmare either. She was doing post-grad study at a uni nearby and seemed easygoing. Once Harry settled in she laid down the ground rules that basically boiled down to “don't get arrested” and “don't get me in trouble with your mum”.

Harry pulled at the collar of his button-up and tried not to wriggle. _Do they make their seats as uncomfortable as possible on purpose?_

He rolled his eyes, glancing at the clock on the wall. Harry had gotten to school early because he was supposed to have a meeting with the headmaster before his first class—a meeting that should have started fifteen minutes ago.

“Mr. Styles?” The receptionist motioned to the door of the headmaster's personal office. “Headmaster Cowell will see you now.”

Harry rose from his chair. He actually felt a bit nervous now. He wiped his clammy palms against his trousers before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

There was a man, probably in his late 40s, with short, dark hair sitting behind a large desk. He gestured for Harry to come in—beckoning with two fingers without looking up from his papers. “Sit down. Close the door behind you.”

Harry shut the door and sat in one of the armchairs across from the desk. He tried not to gawk or fidget at the sight of the massive, rather intimidating office, but he didn't think he really succeed at either.

“Mr. Styles, we don't usually do this.”

Harry's eyes snapped to meet the headmaster's. Apparently he was one of those people who liked to get right to the point.

Headmaster Cowell gave a long suffering sigh, closing the folder on his desk. “However, your parents were rather... persuasive in the matter.” His lips pursed in barely suppressed disdain.

Harry knew he was talking about Harry's mum. Anne was a force to be reckoned with and when she set her sights on something very little could stop her. Harry was pretty sure he got his 'what I want, I get' mentality from her.

“Nonetheless, what's done is done.” He stared Harry down. “I have been assured with the utmost confidence that you will not cause any trouble at this school. Have I been mislead?”

Harry shook his head. “No, sir.”

And he meant it. Even though he was still giving his parents the cold shoulder Harry could admit to himself that they might've had a point. Seeing how he'd almost destroyed his relationship with his best friend in only a few months, he begrudgingly acknowledged that perhaps he needed to make some changes.

Besides, Harry kept picturing his mother's tear-stained face as she hugged him goodbye, still mumbling about just wanting the best for him. Despite what his latest behavior might've suggested he didn't actually like letting his parents down, especially his mum.

“I'm taking a chance on you, Mr. Styles,” Headmaster Cowell continued. “You seem like a good kid. Despite any _alleged_ recent occurrences”—his lips narrowed as he scrutinized Harry further. Harry tried not to squirm under his gaze, wondering just how much the headmaster knew—“you've never been in any serious trouble, your teachers speak highly of you, and your marks are good. Given that your situation is not typical however, I will be enforcing a six week probation period.”

Headmaster Cowell leaned back in his chair. “Think of it as a trial run. During this time you will follow all Haslington's rules to a tee. You will be a model pupil or I will throw you out on your first offense, no matter how minor you may perceive it to be.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, swallowing apprehensively at the hard glint in the headmaster's eye. He felt as though every word that came out of Headmaster Cowell's mouth was a test—one Harry had forgotten to prepare for. However, he couldn't have failed too badly because the headmaster finally gave him a short nod and leaned forward once more.

“Here is your time-table, school map, as well information on our extracurriculars. I suggest you learn your way around fairly quickly.” He pushed several sheets of paper toward Harry. “We do not stand for mediocrity here at Haslington, Mr. Styles. We've looked over your previous marks as well as your teachers' comments for all your courses. We expect your best. Is that understood?”

Harry nodded mutely, feeling vaguely ill.

Headmaster Cowell raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He glanced at his watch. “Now you have about ten minutes before your first class, maths, if I'm remembering correctly—”

“Simon!” Harry turned to see the receptionist standing in the doorway, looking frazzled. “Erm, Headmaster Cowell.” She glanced at Harry distractedly. “I'm sorry, but—”

Headmaster Cowell frowned in concern. “What's the matter, Sinitta?”

“There's- the hall—” Sinitta took a deep breath, collecting herself. She shook her head and looked heavenward before giving the headmaster a small reluctant smile. “I think you'd better come see for yourself.”

Headmaster Cowell rose without question and followed her out of the office, Harry trailing behind them. His mouth dropped open in surprise as they stepped out into the hall.

It was... snowing?

Harry stuck his hand out, catching some of the falling white flakes. They were just little styrofoam balls. It looked like they were billowing out of the air conditioning vents.

Harry looked down the hallway, which was now in chaos, a sharp contrast to the sleepy, subdued atmosphere it’d held when Harry arrived this morning. A decent covering of “snow” was already on the ground and students were laughing and goofing off, throwing handfuls of the stuff at each other or jokingly trying to catch it on their tongues (and immediately regretting it). Harry thought he could even see someone attempting a snow angel.

Harry glanced at Headmaster Cowell, who was staring around the hall with a slack-jawed expression. He got a feeling the headmaster was not the type of person to have that expression often. After a few moments however, he collected himself, sharing a knowing look with Sinitta. He sighed, but didn't look angry. “Tomlinson.” Sinitta nodded in agreement.

Harry barely had time to contemplate what that meant when two figures caught his eye. They were dressed in full winter apparel, complete with boots and puffy coats. The one on the left was practically bouncing instead of walking as he approached. He had on bright red mittens and a garish looking red and green hat with tufts of blond hair sticking out of it. The boy next to him had dark hair and walked with a more subtle swagger. There was a smirk playing on his lips and a simple pair of black leather gloves on his hands.

The blonde's eyes lit up when he caught sight of them. “Hey Headmaster Cowell!” he shouted with a grin.

Harry glanced nervously at the headmaster, but he didn't seem cross at all; instead he looked completely calm. “Mr. Horan, Mr. Malik, I see you've come prepared for our… snow day.”

The one with the dark hair nodded. “Well you know us Headmaster, we always like to be prepared. 'Preparation is the key to success,' Haslington's number one rule.”

To Harry's surprise the headmaster's lips actually twitched in amusement. “Well then I'm sure you both have properly _prepared_ and cleared your schedules after school for the next few days for detention.” Headmaster Cowell glanced around at the thoroughly covered hall. “Which I presume will start off with employing your cleaning skills.”

Neither of the boys' grins faltered. “Of course,” the dark haired one replied.

“Though about the cleaning...” the blond one started, his grin widening. Almost as if on cue a low rumbling reached their ears, coming from the end of the hall. Students had stopped and were peering curiously as the sound became increasingly louder.  

“What on earth…” Harry heard Sinitta mutter. Harry didn't think he could get more surprised than seeing it snow in the middle of the hallway, but he was wrong. Because as the students parted Harry caught sight of third figure decked out in winter clothes, except in his hands was some sort of small leaf blower?

_Or snow blower in this case, I suppose._

As he walked down the hall the blower created a whirlwind of the small pieces of styrofoam, throwing the hall into even more disarray.

_I don't think that can even remotely be referred to as cleaning._

Getting closer, Harry could still barely see the person's face through the flying fake snow, but he could make out him grinning as he yanked off his knitted hat, waving it enthusiastically at them. “Lovely weather we're having today, isn't it Headmaster?” he yelled over the noise. Headmaster Cowell was shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

The boy stopped in front of them, clicking off the machine and ending the almost deafening roar. The snow started to settle and Harry felt his stomach drop as he saw the person clearly for the first time.

_He's gorgeous._

Harry's mouth felt dry as his eyes traveled over the other boy. His face was slightly flushed and sweaty as he laughed breathlessly, making Harry's own breath catch in his throat.

The boy flashed a broad grin at his two partners in crime, who were also giggling helplessly. He put down the blower, looking completely relaxed, as if snow blowing was a perfectly normal thing to do as one roamed the halls of their secondary school. His side-swept, brown hair was sticking up messily from the way he’d yanked off his hat earlier.

Harry's fingers twitched, itching to run through it.

The boy threw a wink at the receptionist, his bright blue eyes dancing in amusement. “Sinitta, looking radiant as usual.”

She pursed her lips, attempting to look stern instead of smiling. “That's Mrs. Malone to you, Mr. Tomlinson. As always.” Her voice was serious, but she had a fond look in her eye.

So this was Tomlinson. Apparently with a capital T for trouble.

“A little late aren't we, Mr. Tomlinson?” Headmaster Cowell interjected with a raised eyebrow. “It's already the third week of school. I was starting to think we might actually get to have a peaceful beginning to the term.”

“I'd never disappoint you like that, Headmaster. It's just the struggles of old age you know,” Tomlinson said sighing, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically. “I'm getting a little slow. But,” he continued with bright smile, “I'm thinking all this might've made up for the delay.” He spread his arm out, gesturing to the transfigured hallway, like an artist proudly surveying his masterpiece. As he dropped his arm and turned back round to face them, he finally spotted Harry.

Their eyes met and it was like everything else had screeched to a stop. The only thing Harry could hear was his own quickening heartbeat as all his thoughts scattered. He tried to clamp down on the butterflies in his stomach, but it only seemed to get worse the longer they stared at each other. It'd probably only been a moment or two, but Harry already felt like he was falling into the other boy's eyes, drowning in a pool of deep blue.

Before he could make an utter fool out of himself Harry tore his gaze away, looking down and trying to catch his breath as if he’d just done a sprint. Even more mortifying, he was pretty sure he was blushing.

“Well I'd—” Harry heard Tomlinson begin to talk, his voice too soft, then clear his throat. “I'd better be off then,” he said, this time just as brightly as before. “As you can see I have a lot of snow to clear.”

“Detention, Tomlinson.” Headmaster Cowell said. He didn't even sound angry.

“Of course, Headmaster,” Tomlinson replied cheekily. The deafening noise of the blower started up again. Harry watched Tomlinson's feet go by through lowered lashes, before deeming it safe to look up again.

Harry bit his lip as he stared down the hall. _This is bad. This is really, really bad._

Headmaster Cowell made a small noise of disbelief. “Mr. Malik, Mr. Horan please go after Mr. Tomlinson and remove that thing from him before he damages school property. And then all three of you get to class.” The two boys nodded, still grinning. “No detours!” he reminded them as they made their way down the hall.

Headmaster Cowell shook his head and turned to go back inside the office. His eyes flickered over to Harry and he frowned, as if only now remembering Harry was there. “Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Styles?”

Harry saw the clock across the hall and stifled a swear. He needed to get to maths, _now_. He glanced down at his map before looking up apologetically at Headmaster Cowell. The headmaster wordlessly pointed to the right. With a muttered thanks, Harry set off toward the classroom as quickly as possible.

Tomlinson was already getting him into trouble and they hadn't even properly met yet.

 

+

 

Louis turned off the blower and set it down on the ground, still laughing. He threw an exaggerated wink at Mrs. Malone. “Sinitta, looking radiant as usual.”

She pursed her lips like she always did. “That's Mrs. Malone to you, Mr. Tomlinson. As always.”

Louis grinned, ignoring her serious tone and instead focusing on the indulgent look in her eye. Despite her stern demeanor Louis knew she had a soft spot for him. It'd taken a lot of cajoling, but after years of having to deal with him she'd succumbed to his charms at last.

“A little late aren't we, Mr. Tomlinson?" asked Headmaster Cowell. "It's already the third week of school. I was starting to think we might actually get to have a peaceful beginning to the term.”

Louis grinned at the familiar banter. Between Louis' antics and the headmaster's gruff demeanor, the two of them hadn't gotten off to an auspicious start. But eventually, Headmaster Cowell figured out that Louis wasn’t trying to undermine his authority, Louis realized the headmaster actually had a wicked sense of humor underneath it all, and the two of them had worked out a functioning relationship.

As long as Louis didn't go too far, he was allowed to release some energy and pull the occasional prank. Louis liked to think that secretly Headmaster Cowell actually appreciated the way Louis lightened the high pressure atmosphere at Haslington. Still, he was glad to see the tell-tale twitch of the headmaster's lips, signaling his amusement.

Sometimes Louis wasn’t the best judge of “too far”.

“I'd never disappoint you like that, Headmaster. It's just the struggles of old age you know.” Louis sighed, trying to appear morose. “I'm getting a little slow. But I'm thinking all this might've made up for the delay.” He gestured to the snow covered hallway, reveling in how well it had all come together.

Louis lowered his arm. _I wonder how long I can drag this out for…_

His thoughts trailed off as he caught sight of a student partially hidden behind the headmaster, the boy's wide, green eyes staring straight at him. Louis felt strangely uncomfortable under his gaze. And yet there was something about him that made Louis want to step closer.

The uneasy feeling twisted into irritation. _Why is he looking at me like that? Stop._

Louis dismissed the fact that he himself couldn't seem to look away either.

Just as Louis was gearing up to blurt out something, anything, the other boy lowered his head. Louis felt off kilter, still staring at the mess of dark curls. He was both relieved and weirdly disappointed at the loss of eye contact.

The stranger's pale cheeks were starting to turn a light pink.

Louis' heartbeat picked up. _Is he blushing? Why is he blushing? Am I blushing?_ Louis resisted the impulse to feel his cheeks.

“Well I'd—” Louis had started talking before he even realized he'd opened his mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I better be off then. As you can see I have a lot of snow to clear.”

“Detention, Tomlinson,” Headmaster Cowell said, as expected. He and Louis might've gotten along, but punishment was inevitable. For the most part they had to clean up their own pranks or do different tasks for their teachers, but it was never anything too horrible.

“Of course, Headmaster,” Louis retorted as cheekily as possible, attempting to restore some semblance of normalcy. He picked up the leaf blower and turned it on, eager to leave.

Louis walked away and turned it back off when he reached the end of the hall. He yanked the extension cord from the wall, ignoring the slight shake in his fingers, and hastily wrapped it up. He could hear Niall and Zayn coming towards him as he shoved both the cord and the blower in the equipment room.

The two were laughing, arms thrown over each others' shoulders as they walked down the hallway. Louis silently fell into step with them—he was being oddly quiet for having just pulled off one of the best pranks of their secondary school careers.

Niall broke away and crowed loudly, complete with a little spin, still running on adrenaline. “Best back-to-school prank ever!” He high-fived Zayn, which morphed into a complicated handshake/fist bump ritual. Niall turned to Louis. “That was absolutely brill!”

“Yeah yeah, definitely,” he replied, distracted.

Zayn knocked shoulders with him. “Did you see Simon's face? We're going to have to go all out at the end of the year to be able to top this—”

“Hey who was that guy?” Louis asked abruptly before clamping his mouth shut. _Where did that come from?_

Zayn's eyebrows drew together in a tiny frown. “What guy?”

Louis stared at him, completely bewildered. _What guy??_ Louis had been trying to get images green eyes and dark curly hair out of his head since he'd walked away. “The guy. You know, standing next to the headmaster?”

Niall and Zayn glanced at each other in confusion.

Louis' tensed, that uneasy feeling starting up again. _How did they not notice him? He was so…_ Louis struggled to find the right word.

 “No,” Zayn replied, drawing the vowel out.

Niall, however, had paused and was now nodding slowly. “Wait, yeah, I think. The lad with the curly hair, right?” He looked at Zayn for confirmation, but he just shrugged.

“Yeah, that's him,” Louis said. He stared at Niall expectantly. “Do you know him?”

Niall shook his head. “Nah. Never seen him before.”

Louis' face fell. _Damn. Who is this kid?_ _Niall knows everybody_.

Niall leaned away slightly, giving Louis a strange look. “But uh... I don't know, I could”—he glanced at Zayn, then back at Louis—“find out for you?”

“Yeah. Cool. Thanks.” Louis flashed him a smile and hoped it seemed nonchalant. He and Zayn turned to go into their English class. “See you at lunch,” Louis called over his shoulder. He could feel Niall's considering gaze on his back as he slipped into the classroom.

+

Niall dropped his tray onto the table, sitting down across from Louis. He took a large bite out of his club sandwich. Louis was twisting the stem on his apple as he watched Niall attentively.

“Okay, I found out about that guy from this morning,” Niall said between chews. Louis released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “He's a new student, only started today.”

The apple stem broke. Louis ignored it, leaning forward. “But we don't even take students after the start of term.”

Niall shrugged as he opened his bag of crisps. “Maybe Simon's going soft or something. Anyway he's in Year 11 with me. He used to go to Holmes Chapel—”

“Holmes Chapel? That's not even that far.” Louis frowned. “Why'd he transfer here? After two weeks?”

Niall leaned forward as well. “Well that's the interesting part—”

“What are we talking about?” Zayn had arrived, adding his tray to the lunch table.

“The new lad from this morning.”

Zayn wrinkled his nose. “Kinda quiet that one.”

Niall raised his eyebrows. “You're complaining about someone being quiet?”

Zayn shrugged, dipping a chip into his ketchup. “Just looked sorta surly that's all.”

Louis shushed Zayn impatiently. “What else?”

Niall grinned. “Well he already has a reputation. He was definitely popular at Holmes Chapel. You know Cher and her crowd?”

Louis and Zayn stared at him blankly.

“Cher. Josh? Mollie? Nick?”

Zayn shrugged again, eating another chip.

Niall shook his head. “You two really need to get outside the Haslington bubble. Anyway, Jamie on our footie team—you _do_ know who that is right?— he has a cousin over that way, so he and some of his mates were down there a lot this summer. They never actually met the new guy, but they saw him around all the time. Random parties, always with someone, your basic drinking, smoking, pills, bit out of control”—Niall popped the last of his sandwich in his mouth—“that sort of thing.”

Louis stared at him.

That was definitely not what he’d been expecting.

“So why is he here then?” Zayn asked. Despite his professed disinterest, he'd been hanging onto Niall's every word.

“Well...” Niall trailed off, eyeing Louis' brownie. Louis pushed it towards him. Niall grinned, unwrapping it.

“Well he didn't exactly slow down when the school year started, yeah? It's all supposed to be very hush-hush, but I heard he got kicked out after the headteacher caught him with his daughter. They skipped class and he found them together right as she was—” Niall made a crude gesture involving his hand in a fist and his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.

Zayn let out a low whistle. “Wouldn't want to be him right then.”

“Yeah. And they were high.” Niall snorted, holding back a laugh. "The headteacher _snapped_. Someone had to pull him off the lad before he killed him or something.”

The three of them sat in silence for a moment taking the whole thing in.

“Him?” Louis said incredulously.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “It's all crap if you ask me. People like to make stuff up. Nothing better to do here anyway.”

Louis frowned, undecided.

Niall gave a half shrug and finished off his crisps. “Just saying what I was told.”

Louis' eyes scanned the cafeteria, catching sight of the subject of their conversation. He watched as the other boy picked at his lunch, oblivious to the people around him. But then, as if feeling his stare, he looked up and met Louis' eyes. Louis knew he should probably look away, but found that once again he seemed to be frozen under his gaze.

This had to stop happening.

The other boy slowly raised a questioning eyebrow. Louis swallowed dryly, giving a one shouldered shrug in reply.

“What's his name?” Louis asked, their eyes still locked.

“Harry Styles.”

“Harry Styles,” Louis repeated under his breath. Harry's eyes widened and he ducked his head just like before, breaking contact.

Louis breathed out heavily, the tension flowing out of him being replaced by a sense of frustration.

 _What is with this kid?_ Louis pouted. _And why is he always the one that gets to end these weird staring contests we keep having?_

Niall looked over his shoulder to where Louis was still staring. He spotted Harry and turned back to Louis. “You want to go say hi?” he asked, nodding his head in Harry's general direction.

“No.”

Niall paused, his Coke can halfway to his mouth. Even Zayn glanced up from where he’d been doodling on a napkin to give him a curious look.

Usually Louis made it a habit to know pretty much everyone (though he wasn't quite as good at it as Niall). Now there was a new student with a mysterious background and sordid reputation? Louis should've been beside himself to go talk to Harry.

Louis ignored their expressions, staring down at his lunch.

“Maybe later.”

+

'Later' didn't happen that day.  Or the next. Or the day after that. In fact Louis didn't talk to Harry at all that first week. By Friday, people had started to talk. Like Zayn and Niall, everyone figured Louis would immediately be all over Harry because he was new and interesting. Everyone else certainly was.

Louis' eyes tracked Harry as he entered the courtyard, watching him weave through the groups of other students. Harry waved back at a few people, but didn't stop to talk with anyone, instead sitting at one of the empty tables in the corner of the yard.

Despite Harry's obvious efforts to blend into the background, people tended to flock to him anyway. There were more and more elaborate stories about him at his old school, which Harry refused to affirm or deny. Unfortunately for him, that only increased people's interest.

Nevertheless, from Louis there'd been nothing, not even so much as a good-natured “Welcome to Haslington” prank.

Niall, however, had no such qualms about talking to Harry. Haslington wasn’t huge to begin with and they were both in Year 11, so by now Niall had basically told Harry his entire life story (Niall tended to do that). The two of them actually got on quite well: Harry had yet to get tired of Niall's endless enthusiasm and Niall somehow found all of Harry's dumb jokes funny.

Zayn remained mostly unconcerned and uninterested with the whole situation, per usual.

Louis scowled as he saw Niall join Harry at his table, the two of them looking perfectly at ease with each other.  He watched as Harry threw back his head in laughter at something Niall had said and then tore his eyes away from them. He stared blindly down at his sociology textbook.

At the beginning of this week (in which Louis was still attempting to pretend Harry didn't exist) the rumor mill had started to churn at full speed. Apparently, over the weekend the entire student body had decided that Louis and Harry were sworn enemies—something about Harry becoming too popular and trying to take over and Louis being jealous and upset about it—all of which was complete crap and had no evidence whatsoever, but that was secondary school for you.

Louis had never given any of his so-called popularity much thought. To him, he just liked to make people laugh and happened to be good at it sometimes, and if that made people like him, well then fine. Besides, it wasn't like he was “most popular” or any of that rubbish.  What about the captain of the footie team? Or the captain of the rugby team? Even the student council president probably had more 'popularity points' than he did.

Not that any of these things mattered. Once a bit of gossip started, details like that were of non-importance.

A shadow fell across his book and Louis startled, realizing Zayn had come up behind him. Zayn was saying something, but Louis' attention had already snapped back to across the courtyard. Niall was nowhere to be seen, but Harry was still there and he was staring straight back at him.

A hand waved in front of his face and Louis blinked, rearing back.

Zayn sighed. "Why don't you just go talk to him?"

_Yeah Louis, why don’t you just go talk to him?_

In the last few days that soft voice in the back of his mind had turned into a deafening roar. It kept telling him that maybe the reason he was avoiding Harry was because he made Louis nervous.

Louis brushed Zayn off, shutting his textbook and standing. He grabbed the rest of his things from the table and glanced at Zayn. "Are you ready? We have to get to class, let’s go."

Zayn sighed again, looking like he was barely managing not to roll his eyes, but he followed Louis anyway. Louis kept his eyes forward, not looking back once.

Just for the record, Harry Styles did _not_ make him nervous. Louis didn't get nervous.

Especially not because of curly-haired upstarts with emerald green eyes.

And he would prove it.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry did not have time to think about Louis Tomlinson.

That was not to say he _didn't_ think about him, only that he probably should've been focusing on something else at the time.

This was mostly because Haslington was _hard_. Harry had an idea before coming here and Headmaster Cowell's “we don't accept mediocrity” speech had made it even clearer, but Harry wasn't prepared for this. Between learning his way around, completing his school work, and catching up on the material he'd missed the first two weeks, he was exhausted most of the time.  And while it definitely helped his “model pupil” routine, it certainly hadn't helped his social life.

He wasn't that cross about it though; the less temptation the better. Despite what he considered his rather boring life right now, people seemed to want to come around him anyway. Harry even managed to befriend Niall Horan—which he sometimes still thought fell under the category of 'Very Bad Idea,' but one look at Niall's crestfallen face had Harry retracting his decision to ignore him. It wasn't that Harry didn't like Niall, it was just that Niall was obviously best friends with Louis Tomlinson.

And like Harry said, he did not have time to think about Louis Tomlinson.

Harry yawned, trudging inside the front hall of Haslington. He nodded to a few people he knew as he made his way down the hallway.

It wasn't like Louis had tried to get his attention anyway. Louis wasn't shy—with his loud personality and constant joking, he seemed to know everyone. But he hadn't spared so much as a “hello” to Harry. In fact, Harry was fairly certain Louis was avoiding him just as much as Harry was avoiding Louis… and he didn't exactly know what to make of that.

There was a slight fear that Louis simply didn't want to get near the creepy new guy who stared at him all the time, but Harry had caught Louis looking at him too sometimes, so that probably wasn't it.

(Harry also did not have time to analyze why Louis had been sending him intense, unreadable gazes throughout the week—so of course Harry spent his every waking moment wondering about it. _Does he actually hate me? Is he planning something? Does he secretly want to push me up against a wall and do dirty, filthy things to me?_ Harry always stopped that particular train of thought from taking off because he refused to go there. As far as Harry was concerned, Louis Tomlinson was straight until proven otherwise.)

Harry slowed as he reached his locker, slipping off his backpack and dropping by his feet. He crouched down, opening the bag and rifling through it.

Harry himself had pretty much always known he fancied both boys and girls. It wasn't something he thought about a lot growing up. People seemed to expect him to be interested in girls though so he went with it. He liked girls. He liked their pretty laughs and the way they blushed when you teased them. He liked their soft touches and curves. Girls were fun. So it was okay if he could only be mates with guys.

He didn't try to actively hide it, but he didn't talk about it ether. Liam knew, because Harry told Liam everything and when you're six you don't really think about keeping secrets from your best friend. Until this summer however, Harry's vague attraction to boys had gone unpracticed. Then, at a party one night he found himself drunkenly making out with some random guy and loving every second of it.

Upon sobering up he had a brief panic about the possible backlash, but it turned out that most people were too drunk to remember or were laughing it off with a pat on his shoulder and a shake of the head. It was as if him making out with guys was just another crazy stunt, something to go along with his new wild and outrageous lifestyle. Harry thought it was ridiculous, but if it stopped him from getting beat up then they could see it any way they liked.

He didn't stop hooking up with girls, but his list of guys slowly started to ratchet up as well. Guys were different. They were exciting and interesting and a whole new gender for Harry to explore.

Harry pulled out a few books and stood, shoving his backpack into his locker. He scanned the space, wondering if he'd forgotten anything. It was getting closer to time for class and the hallways were already becoming more crowded.

“Styles!”

Harry froze. Even though it had never been directed at him before, Harry definitely recognized that voice. He held back a groan.

Making time for Louis Tomlinson was the last thing he should do.

Because Harry got that feeling around Louis. That feeling that made his fingertips tingle and his heartbeat quicken. That rush of excitement, plus a hint of fear, like he was invincible.

Harry knew that feeling. And he was pretty sure it was good part of what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Sensible things rarely followed that particular mix of temptation.

All Harry needed to do was make it through the next few weeks. And getting involved, in any way, with Louis Tomlinson was not Harry's definition of keeping his head down.

 

+

 

Louis decided to tackle the Harry Styles problem the way he handled most of his problems (and his life to be honest): act first, think later. So on Monday morning when he saw Harry at his locker, he simply called out—

“Styles!”

His voice came out a bit louder than he'd intended, but it was steady and Louis felt a sort of satisfaction when Harry immediately froze before turning around to face him. Louis stopped a few feet away and leaned against the lockers with a nonchalant air.

“Tomlinson,” Harry replied calmly.

Louis felt thrown for a moment, hearing his name fall so easily from Harry's lips. “You know my name.”

Harry cocked his head to the side, reminding Louis of a puppy. A very cute puppy. “Well you made quite the first impression didn't you?”

Louis felt his stomach flip at Harry's teasing tone. He sternly told his stomach to cut it out and tried to appear relaxed. “I suppose I did. Anyway, sorry I haven't come round to introduce myself,” Louis continued, not sounding sorry at all. He gave a half shrug. “I've been busy.”

Harry's lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Well thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule.”

Louis bristled at Harry's tone. Was he mocking him?

“You're welcome,” Louis said with a clenched smile. There was a noise off to the side of them and Louis glanced over, becoming aware of the rest of the hall watching them raptly. _Well, if it's a show they want…_

Louis stepped forward, accidently ending up further inside Harry's personal space than he'd intended. “You seem to know everyone pretty well already though. You've made quite the impression yourself.”

Harry smirked. “Afraid I'm going to steal your thunder?” His voice was light and teasing.

“Hardly," Louis said darkly. "I'm just curious is all, like everybody. You're a bit of a mystery.”

“I'm not so mysterious,” Harry said, his voice dropping slightly.

_Liar_.

“Really? I guess all those rumors were about a different Harry Styles then?”

“Well sometimes a rumor is just a rumor,” Harry countered softly.

Louis realized he had been slowly leaning forward as Harry's voice had dropped. It made their conversation seem almost intimate.

Louis shifted uncomfortably, leaning back and pasting on an overconfident grin. “You know that's exactly what I said. I mean otherwise… well you'd have such the dirty little reputation, wouldn’t you?”

Harry said nothing, his smirk still in place.

“And the way you got thrown out of your old school… I mean, it's _impressive_ ”—Louis leaned forward—“but is it true?” He shifted back again, waiting expectantly and not unaware that the rest of the hall was doing the same.

Harry started to grin. There was a gleam in his eye that Louis recognized as the thrill of a challenge. But then something changed. Harry's grin faltered and his jaw clenched like he was physically holding words in. Louis watched as Harry's expression shuttered closed and he stepped back.

“No.”

The corners of Louis' lips dropped and he felt strangely let down. He wasn't alone as a collective wave of disappointment traveled through the rest of the hall.

Harry shrugged half-heartedly, avoiding Louis' eyes. “They're only stories.”

“Oh.” Louis peered at Harry before giving a shrug of his own, resting against the lockers again. He looked Harry up and down. “Well that figures.”

Harry's eyebrows drew together, confusion written across his face.

“I mean”—Louis gave a dismissive wave—“I understand I suppose. Being the new kid is tough.”

Harry's frown deepened. “What are you trying to say?”

Louis shifted forward as if he was sharing a secret. “It's nothing to be ashamed of.” He paused. “Well. Maybe a little. But coming from a such small town—”

“Haslington isn't exactly the big city,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“—you wanted to seem more interesting. So what's the harm in spreading a few exaggerations around right?” Louis cocked his head to the side, mimicking Harry from earlier. He gleefully noted how Harry's eyes were practically sparking in anger now.

“Are you serious?” Harry said, his voice going up. “I did not start those rumors.”

Louis gave him a doubtful look. “Oh come on princess—”

Harry blanched and then his cheeks started to redden in frustration and a touch of embarrassment. Louis tried not grin, enjoying himself thoroughly.

“That's completely ridiculous, why would I ever—”

“You have to admit, the whole thing was a little much.”

“ _Tomlinson_ ,” Harry bit out.

“What is going on here?” a voice rang out somewhere behind them.

Harry and Louis glanced around, startled to see that so many students had apparently stopped to watch them. The students parted to reveal a rather irritated Mrs. Tice.

“Why are all of you dawdling in the hall? Don't you have classes to go to?” She glared at the scattering crowd before turning her gaze on Harry and Louis. Her eyes narrowed, looking between them.

“Mr. Tomlinson. Mr. Styles. Is there a problem?”

Harry swallowed and shook his head.

Louis started to walk backwards, his eyes widening innocently. “None at all Mrs. Tice. I'm just off to English.” Mrs. Tice made a disapproving noise, but let him go, still peering at Harry and the rest of the lagging students.

Louis continued backing up. When he was out of Mrs. Tice's sight line he threw Harry a wink and mouthed, “Bye, princess”. Finally, Louis felt like himself again, and not that nervous, swooning stranger that had taken over his body the last two weeks.

Harry's lips tightened into a grim line and he turned around abruptly, grabbing his books from his open locker and taking off in the opposite direction.

Louis turned around as well, whistling under his breath as he set off towards his own class.

+

Louis felt better than ever. This was how it was supposed to be. He breezed through his classes, charming his teachers, greeting everyone he knew in the halls, cracking jokes and being his usual cheery, boisterous self. For some reason Niall had been giving him hard looks, but unless the lad was going to speak up, Louis wasn't going to ask.  Nothing could take away this feeling.

Well, he did feel a twinge of guilt when he caught some rather rude whispers about Harry and his lies, but he brushed it off. It'd blow over soon anyway.

Louis ducked into his last class just in time. Mrs. Reyes called out to him however, before he could make his way to his seat.

“Louis, Headmaster Cowell would like to see you in his office.”

Louis stopped mid-stride. That was unexpected. He hadn't done anything recently, no pranks at least. He stared at Mrs. Reyes, searching for any clue as to what this was about, but her face remained impassive. She motioned to the door. Louis nodded at her and turned to the rest of the class, giving them a mocking salute and walking out.

Entering the headmaster's outer office Louis opened his mouth to greet Mrs. Malone, but she cut him off before he could get a word out. “Go straight in Louis.”

Louis stared at her for a beat. “Right.”   _Okay, now this is officially weird._ He walked into the Headmaster's office.

“Look, if this is about the missing shuttlecocks I swear I had nothi…” he trailed off as he caught sight of someone else sitting in the room. Harry Styles.

“This is not about the _shuttlecocks_ , Mr. Tomlinson.” Headmaster Cowell’s face was stony, without a trace of amusement. “Close the door and sit down.” Louis did so silently, sliding into the seat next to Harry.

He watched Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry's face was pale and withdrawn, his eyes refusing to meet either Louis' or Headmaster Cowell's. His hands were tightly clenched together in his lap.

Louis dragged his gaze back to the headmaster, feeling apprehensive. Headmaster Cowell was staring him down as if he was attempting to see past all Louis' defenses. Louis sat uncharacteristically still. _What is going on?_

Finally the headmaster spoke. “Mr. Tomlinson you know as a long time pupil here at Haslington I allow you a certain amount of leeway. You're a good student and your antics are harmless, but there are some things, as you are well aware, that I will not tolerate from anyone.”

Louis nodded, risking a glance over at Harry to see if he could give any hint as to why they were here, but the other boy was still looking down.

“Violence is one of those things.”

Louis' eyes snapped back to the headmaster’s as he made an involuntary noise of surprise. “Wait. What?”

Headmaster Cowell, however, did not look phased.  “I know, especially in secondary school, that so-called rivalries and petty disagreements can arise, but I expect all my pupils to handle their differences in a diplomatic and adult-like fashion—and _not_ like they're back in Year 4.”

“You,” Louis began incredulously, finally catching on, “You think I was fighting??” He jerked a thumb at Harry. “With _him?”_ Louis snorted in laughter, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed into his chair. He shook his head. “And I thought this was going to be something serious.”

No one else seemed to share his amusement.

Headmaster Cowell gave him a harsh glare. “This _is_ serious, Mr. Tomlinson.” He transferred his gaze to Harry, his expression even more severe. Harry seemed to shrink back from it and Louis didn't blame him. Headmaster Cowell was rather intimidating in general, but being on the receiving end of his disapproval was not even something Louis handled well.

“I did warn you when you arrived, Mr. Styles, that I would not allow for even the most minor transgression. Given your history, you know I have yet to grant you status as an official student. This sort of behavior is not what we agreed upon.”

Louis whirled around to face Harry. “Your history? But I thought you said—” He caught sight of Headmaster Cowell's increasingly aggravated expression and shut up, leaning back into his chair.

“Mrs. Tice brought to my attention that this morning there may have been an altercation between you and Mr. Styles.”

“There was no altercation,” Louis responded vehemently. _This is mad._

Headmaster Cowell still appeared unconvinced.

“Headmaster you know I never fight.” The headmaster gave him a cynical look.

Louis pulled a face, his expression slightly sheepish. “Well. Physically. The point is I don't have an issue with—” Louis swallowed down the “Styles” and replaced it with, “—Harry. Besides you and I both know that when I have a problem with someone I'm not exactly shy about sharing it, even with you.”

Headmaster Cowell's harsh expression quelled a bit. “That may be true Mr. Tomlinson, but Mrs. Tice reported that there was quite a crowd surrounding you two.”

Louis rolled his eyes and flashed the headmaster a lighthearted grin. “We were only talking, honest. You know how people are. Harry is new, I'm, well, _me_ , and they were being nosy is all.”

Headmaster Cowell studied him a moment longer. “Just a conversation?” Louis nodded. “And what exactly was this conversation about?”

“Er—” He shot another look at Harry, who was still tense and refusing to look at him. _So bloody unhelpful._ “I was introducing myself. You know, because he was new and I had meant to before...”

Headmaster Cowell drummed his fingers along his desk.

“I, uh, we were only having a laugh. Because of the stories and stuff about him from his old school. But it was only a laugh, we were just joking around I promise.” Louis gave him his most earnest look. Headmaster Cowell continued to stare at him for a second before glancing at Harry. Louis swore he saw the headmaster’s shoulders sag slightly in relief.

“Well you've basically told me the same thing that Mr. Styles has. For the record, I am very glad that this appears to be a misunderstanding. Especially with you, Mr. Styles. I didn't want to think I had been wrong about you.” Harry had finally looked up and he gave the headmaster a nod and a weak smile. “Alright,” Headmaster Cowell continued, “go on, the both you. You've missed enough of class as it is.”

They both stood and left the room. They had barely made it past Mrs. Malone when Louis rounded on Harry. “So you _were_ lying yesterday!”

Harry ignored him, walking out of the office and down the hall.

Louis followed. “What'd you go and do that for—”

The instant they were clear of the headmaster's office Harry spun around to face Louis.

Louis took a step back at the fury on Harry's face. He raised his hands up, palms forward in a placating gesture. “I—”

Harry stepped forward, invading Louis personal space.

It reminded Louis of yesterday, except now it seemed he was in Harry's position. Louis was disappointed to find his breath picking up as he stared into Harry's bright green eyes. He'd noticed last time that Harry was a smidge taller than him, but clearly Harry hadn't been using it to his full advantage before.

Well he certainly was now and Louis could feel his cheeks heating up as the other boy leaned over him.

“Don't, Tomlinson,” Harry growled. He was close enough that Louis could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Louis tried to speak again, but Harry cut him off. “Just—don't.” Harry turned and strode off.

Louis didn't try to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

“Well that's just bloody fantastic,” Harry mumbled, staring out into the downpour.

The weather had looked fine this morning so he hadn't bothered with an umbrella or coat and now he’d have to walk home in the rain. With a sigh Harry shrugged off his blazer and put it over his head. He stepped out from the shelter of the school, resigning himself to being wet and miserable for the next fifteen minutes.

_At least it matches my mood._

It’d been over a week since Harry's close call with Headmaster Cowell. There hadn't been any more trouble and Harry was back to burying himself in his schoolwork.  It wasn't like him (even before his personality change this summer), but he figured if that was what it took to be a “model pupil” then that was what he would do.

It helped that no one really bothered with him anymore. The shiny allure of being the new kid had finally worn off (helped along by their teacher's increasing workload). Even with the reinstatement of his so-called reputation, people seemed to give up once they realized Harry wasn't just going to show up one day and do something wild and crazy.

Niall stuck around though, which Harry was quietly grateful for. Niall had been crushed when he heard about what happened between Harry and Louis. He was rather ticked at Louis for awhile on Harry's behalf, but he also tried to convince Harry that Louis wasn't really all that bad. According to Niall, Louis actually felt sorry about the whole situation.

Harry, however, remained doubtful and told Niall as much. He'd been ignoring Louis whenever they crossed paths, but as far as Harry could tell Louis seemed his normal, loud and obnoxious self, not apologetic in the slightest.

 _Besides_ , Harry kept reminding himself, _whatever Louis Tomlinson does or does not think doesn't matter to me._ Louis was none of his concern and Harry wanted nothing to do with him.

Harry lowered his arms as the rain let up, draping his damp blazer over his shoulder. His fingers brushed across the embroidered Haslington emblem.

Still, it had been sort of disappointing to learn that the gorgeous, funny guy he went breathless for his first day was actually a massive prick. _A hot prick. But still a prick._

Thankfully Niall had given up on convincing Harry of Louis' better qualities, but now he'd moved on to trying to convince Harry to hang out with him outside of school. He complained that Harry was working too hard and as he put it _“you're starting to look a little rough around the edges, mate.”_

Harry kept shrugging him off, claiming schoolwork or chores or anything really. He wasn't sure why he kept brushing Niall off. In the back of his mind Harry knew he was probably wallowing a bit: avoiding everybody, spending his nights working or mindlessly watching tv, missing his friends, his family.

Harry pulled out his keys, reaching Natalie's flat. He went inside, dropping his wet bag down by the door and kicking off his shoes as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Harry?”

Harry whirled around in surprise at the unexpected voice. “Mum?”

Anne was standing in the living room, staring at him uncertainly. He must have walked right past her.

Harry's brow furrowed. “I didn't know you were coming. Did Natalie- why—”

“Don't I get a hug?” Anne interjected, holding out her arms.

Harry blinked and gave her a small smile, taking two steps forward into her arms. He held her tight, the tension from his day flowing out of him. Harry inhaled, enveloped by the scent of honey and lavender. _God she even smells like home_.

Reluctantly he stepped back, brushing a hand over his face and telling himself that it was just wet from the rain. “Why are you here?”

Anne looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “I missed you,” she said like it should've been obvious. “I went from seeing you every day to not seeing you in weeks. And I thought”—she pushed his hair out of his eyes, her gaze fond—“well I thought I'd come up and we could spend the weekend together. Do something, just the two of us?”

Harry wavered for a second, but nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sounds great.”

Anne's face broke into a smile. “Good. Now why don't you go change out of those wet things. And then you can come tell me all about your new school ok?”

Harry nodded again and went to his room to quickly change. A few minutes later he returned, sitting next to her on the sofa.

Anne tutted and grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping it around him. “You look like you're freezing.” Harry lay down next to her, putting his head in her lap. She started running her fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“Forgot your coat today, did we?”

Harry felt like a little kid again, but he didn't care. Sometimes it was nice to have someone else take care of you for a while.

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

Anne's hand stopped moving and came to rest on top of his head. “We didn't exactly leave on the best terms. I suppose I was worried you'd say not to bother.” The two were silent for a moment.

“I'm glad you’re here,” Harry whispered finally.

“And I'm glad you want me here.” She resumed stroking his hair. “Now, tell me about school. How's Haslington?”

Harry tucked his chin closer to his chest. “Fine. A bit harder I guess. But it's just school.”

“Are you adjusting okay?”

“I suppose so.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“A few.”

“Natalie says you're studying a lot.”

Harry shifted against the sofa. “I said it was hard.”

“Too hard?”

Harry's eyebrows drew together. “No.”

“So have you thought about joining any clubs or—”

“Mum, you're fishing. What are you trying to say?”

Anne sighed. “I only want to make sure you're okay. Natalie said—”

“Apparently Natalie says a lot,” Harry muttered.

Anne swatted him lightly. “Hush. She’s concerned that's all. You never go anywhere. You're always in the flat and—”

 _Oh I see where this is going._ Harry huffed, pulling the throw tighter around him. “Well which one is it mum? Do you want me out partying every night and messing about in school or do you want me home, like a good boy, just focusing on my coursework?”

“Harry,” Anne admonished. She moved him until he was in a sitting position, facing her. “I don’t want either of those things.” She shook her head and her lips twisted into a wry smile. “You never were the best at moderation were you?”

Harry made a tiny pout, shuffling so he could lean his head on her shoulder.

She wrapped an arm around him. “I want you happy, love. And safe. I do want you to be a teenager. Explore, experience things…” Harry stared up at her doubtfully.

Anne laughed. “ _I do._ Just within reason. You're smart, know your boundaries.” She smoothed his hair away from his face.  “If you want to sit around here all day then fine. But that's not the Harry I know.”

Harry pulled his head away, Anne's hand falling back down to her lap. “Well what if you're wrong.”

Anne pursed her lips. “I'm not wrong.” She cupped his face with her hands. “You look unhappy and exhausted. You've got bags under your eyes.”

“I just walked home in the rain—”

She raised her eyebrows.  “And the rain has been giving you bags under your eyes?”

Harry looked down. “Maybe?”

Anne took a deep breath and reached out to clasp her hands around his. “Harry. It's not easy”—she swallowed—“sending your child—” She broke off again, glancing away.

Harry realized her eyes were shining. “Mum,” he pleaded softly. He hated seeing her cry.

“I know, I know. It's not far at all.” She sniffed, giving him wavering smile. “But you’re my baby. You weren't supposed to leave home for ages yet. And I stand by my decision, I do, I know it was for the best. But,” She took another steadying breath, gazing at him intently.

“I think you've been punished enough. Your step-father might disagree, but it's been over a month and you haven't been in any trouble since you got here. Your teachers say you're doing fantastic. You're at a new school, in a new city”—she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close so she could press a kiss to his temple—“you're all by yourself and I would sleep a lot easier at night knowing you were happy.”

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want to deal with any of this right now.

Anne made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat and moved over so he could put his head in her lap again. “I can't stand seeing you this way.” She started running her hand through his hair again.

Harry closed his eyes, his eyelids feeling heavier with each blink.

“I know what you're doing,” she said softly.

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

“I'm the parent, let me handle the discipline.” Her hand stilled and dropped down to cup his face, her thumb brushing across his cheek. “I think you've punished yourself long enough.”

Harry kept his eyes closed, squeezing them shut tighter.

Anne sighed. “Just promise me you'll take care of yourself.”

“Alright mum,” he mumbled, his words muffled by her jeans.  He felt her relax.

“Thank you.”

 

+

 

There was good news and bad news.

The good (ish?) news was that Harry's reputation was restored back from pathetic liar, thanks to a blabby receptionist's aide. The bad news was that before, Louis and Harry's status as enemies was made-up, but now Louis was pretty sure Harry hated him.

To an outside view it’d probably seem like nothing had changed—which was mostly true, it wasn't like they talked before either—but now there were no more intense stares across the cafeteria or palatable tension when they passed each other in the halls. Instead Harry's stares had turned blank, almost as if he was looking right through Louis. Like Louis didn't exist at all.

The hardest part was trying to convince himself that he didn't care.

Louis had considered trying to talk to Harry again, to apologize or ask for a fresh start or something. But every time he thought about it he felt as if the words had gotten caught in the back of his throat and he couldn't push them out no matter how badly he wanted to. Besides, what if he made things worse? He should just give Harry his space.

Niall disagreed—rather vehemently in fact. He had a few strong words for Louis after the whole incident (which Louis didn't take too personally, Niall was Irish after all). But eventually Niall got over it and stopped bugging Louis about Harry. Louis thought Niall had given up, but today it became clear that he’d only been waiting for the right moment to strike.

“I'm throwing another party this weekend,” Niall mentioned in a casual voice as he sat across from Louis in the cafeteria. “I'm thinking Saturday, right before the start of half-term break next week.”

Louis brightened instantly. A good night out was exactly what he needed to get out of this funk. “Yes. I'm definitely coming. I need to relax.”

Niall nodded in agreement. “It's also the end of Harry's probation period thing. He'll be an official student after this and—”

Zayn joined them, letting out a groan as he caught the last part of their conversation. “Are we talking about Styles again?”

“Oh shut up, Zayn. You're just mad because people think Harry is prettier than you.”

Zayn flipped him off. “Sod off. Besides—” He stole a chip from Niall's lunch.

“Oi!” Niall yanked his tray back, scowling at him. Zayn grinned and popped the chip into his mouth.

“—Louis still thinks I'm the prettiest, right?” he asked, making doe eyes at Louis.

Louis laughed. “Sure, Zayn. Don't worry, you're still the prettiest in all the land.”

Zayn smiled smugly, turning back to Niall, who was still protecting his tray. “See?”

“Well, if we're making Snow White references, I think Harry—”

“Okay!” Louis interjected as Zayn's expression started to sour. If they went down this road the conversation would never end. “Niall was saying something about a party, weren't you Niall?”

“Yeah. And as I was saying, I'm going to invite Harry—”

Zayn groaned again, rolling his eyes as he got up from the table. “I'm going to grab a Coke. Please have moved on to more interesting topics by the time I get back.” He headed towards the vending machines.

Niall ignored him, pointing a finger at Louis. “—and you are going to make nice.”

Louis pushed his pasta around with his fork, avoiding Niall’s eyes. “I am?”

“Yes.”

Louis exhaled loudly and looked at Niall to avoid his urge to seek out Harry in the crowded cafeteria. “I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to talk to me.”

“He will,” Niall replied with absolute certainty.

Louis made a petulant frown. “It's not like I did anything that horrible. It's not my fault Mrs. Tice went and tattled to Simon."

Niall snorted and took a biscuit off Louis' tray. “Doesn't matter. You'll do anything to get onto Harry's good side.”

Louis' eyebrows rose in alarm. “What? No I won't. Why—”

“Bullshit.”

“Huh?”

“Keep up, Lou.” Niall lowered his voice. “I said _bullshit_. So smile, apologize, and try not to fuck it up.” He leaned forward. “I know you want to talk to him again.”

Louis opened his mouth again to protest, but the unreadable expression on Niall's face stopped him. He felt an uneasiness twisting in his stomach.

Most times Niall was just his really good friend that was completely carefree and always up for a laugh, but sometimes he got this look in his eye like he knew more than he let on. It was sort of creepy actually.

Louis continued to stare at Niall, trying to figure him out. Niall shrugged and took another biscuit from Louis' tray before going back to his own lunch. Zayn returned a few seconds later and the two of them started to talk about details for the party, the edibility of the cafeteria’s “Thursday Cottage Pie Special,” how long it was going to take Mr. Thompson to figure out everyone knew he was wearing a hairpiece, and pretty much anything else that wasn't Harry Styles.

Louis joined in a few seconds later, still attempting to convince himself the tingling feeling he was having  was just excitement about Niall's party, and not from the thought of talking to Harry again.

 

+

 

“Hey, so what are you doing this weekend?” Niall asked.

Harry shrugged, taking a notebook out of his locker. “Nothing really. Going home to Holmes Chapel for half-term.”

“When do you leave?”

Harry glanced at him. “I'll probably take the bus down Saturday morning.”

“Make it Sunday afternoon.”

Harry shut his locker door and narrowed his eyes at Niall. “Why…”

Niall smiled. “Because I'm having a party Saturday night,” he said brightly.

Harry shook his head. “I don't think so, Niall.”

“Come on, you always say no. Aren't your six weeks probation over on Friday?”

“Yeah, but—”

“So that's even more reason to celebrate,” Niall pressed. “Have some fun.”

“I'm supposed to be going home.”

“Go home Sunday. It's one day difference. You have the entire week to be in Holmes Chapel.”

Harry leaned against his locker. _A party did sound nice…_

“Even your mum said you've been working too hard,” Niall continued, sensing Harry's weakening resolve.

Harry rolled his eyes; he knew he would regret telling Niall about his mum's visit.

“And it's going to be at my house. You can crash there and everything.”

Harry ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking. _I do kind of miss having an actual social life._ He regarded Niall's eager face for another moment. “Alright—”

Niall pumped a fist into the air. “Yes!”

Harry laughed. “If”—Niall looked at him expectantly—“I can bring a friend.”

Niall grinned, even more excited. “Like a Holmes Chapel friend?” Harry nodded. “Yeah, sure thing. Can't wait to meet 'em.”

Niall started backing away, needing to get to his next class. “So you're definitely coming right? Promise?”

“Yeah yeah, I promise.”

“Perfect.” Niall's grin sharpened. “And you and your friend can meet the guys while you're there.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and took a step toward Niall, who was still backing up. “And by the guys you mean…?”

“Zayn and Louis are really looking forward to it!” Niall blurted out before turning away to continue down the hall.

Harry wanted to bury his face in his hands.  _I walked right into that one._

“Ni—” Harry cut himself off, not wanting to yell down the hallway.

Niall's laughter rang out from the other end of the hall. “You promised, Styles!” Niall called out over his shoulder. He disappeared around the corner.

Harry stared after him in disbelief before snapping out of it and rushing to get to his own class on time. Suddenly his Saturday night seemed like it was going to be a lot more interesting than he planned.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Louis anxiously picked at the label on his beer bottle, resisting the urge to get himself something stronger. Despite the fact that it might calm his nerves, it probably was better not to be completely pissed when he talked to Harry.

It didn't help that he still had no idea what to say. Louis tried to come up with something for days, but every pretend conversation he had in his head always ended horribly. _I'll just have to make it up as I go along._

“Louis!”

Louis started, hearing Niall shout his name over the music. His heartbeat picked up as he saw Niall approaching him with Harry and another lad he didn't know. Louis licked his lips unconsciously and took another swig of his beer. He'd never seen Harry out of uniform before. And while even Louis could admit the school uniform looked good on him, this was definitely better.

Louis felt a pang in the pit of his stomach that must've been jealousy. No one should be allowed to look that attractive in just skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. He managed to tear his eyes away from Harry's collar bones just as the three of them stopped in front of him.

Niall had on a shit-eating grin. “Louis, you remember Harry.”

Louis gave Harry a tentative smile, relieved when Harry did the same.

“And this is his friend, Liam.”

Liam and Louis exchanged brief 'heys' while Niall scanned the crowd. “Where's Zayn?”

“I dunno. I think he said something about—”

“Shots!” Zayn yelled as he came up behind Louis, precariously balancing several plastic shot containers filled with vodka. He set them down on the table next to them. His hair was a bit messy and he was grinning widely, clearly already drunker than the rest of the group. “What's up?”

“Zayn, this is Harry. Harry, Zayn,” Niall introduced.

“Styles!” Zayn exclaimed, louder than necessary.

Harry blinked, looking startled and Louis held back a laugh. Most times Zayn came off as the quiet one of their group. But Harry had never seen Zayn out of school, let alone when he was tipsy.

“So”—Zayn glanced between Louis and Niall—“does this mean we're actually going to start hanging out with him? You know, instead of just talking about him all the time?”

Louis felt his cheeks start to turn red while Niall shook his head in disbelief.

Harry, on the other hand, wanted to know more. “You talk about me?” he asked curiously.

Zayn eagerly opened his mouth to reply, but Niall cut him off. “And this is Liam!” Zayn shifted his attention to the other boy, who smiled in greeting. “Liam Payne. He's a friend of Harry's from Holmes Chapel.”

Zayn winced. “Holmes Chapel? Sorry about that one, mate.”

Liam's smile faltered a bit. “Um, I like Holmes Chapel quite a bit actually…”

Zayn pulled a face. “Why?” His tone held a hint of disgust. “It's _tiny_. I mean Haslington is small enough to make me go mad sometimes and it even seems massive compared to Holmes Chapel.”

Liam shrugged, frowning. “It's my home. I don't mind it being small. I kind of like that in fact.” He said the last part a little defensively.

Zayn stared at him blankly for a beat before breaking eye contact. “Whatever, your funeral.” He turned, picking up the shots and holding them out. “Now who wants a drink?”

Harry grabbed one and downed it immediately. Zayn did as well with Niall and Louis following suit. Zayn glanced at Liam and held out the remaining shot. “Mate?”

Liam shook his head. “Sorry, uh, I don't really—”

Harry plucked the cup out of Zayn's grip. “He doesn't drink,” Harry mumbled, throwing back the shot himself.

Louis gave him a considering look. _I guess I'm not the only one feeling nervous._ Harry caught Louis staring and glanced away hastily.

Zayn, however, was still staring at Liam in dismay. “What do you mean you _don't_ _drink?_ ”

“Well I only have one kidney so—”

“So you can't drink?”

Niall elbowed Zayn in the side, his lips thinning in exasperation.  “Zayn—”

Zayn batted his arm away. "Pipe down Niall, the man can speak for himself. So what is it, Payne? Can you or can't you?”

Liam's eyes hardened. Louis and Harry stood on, watching the conversation like a tennis match. Actually, Harry just looked a bit stunned at hearing so many words come out of Zayn's mouth at one time.

“Well technically I can, but—”

“So you can, but you choose not to.”

“I have to be careful is all,” Liam said through clenched teeth. “And there's nothing wrong with not drinking. In fact—”

Zayn groaned, wrinkling his nose. “Please tell me you're not one of those straightedge kids, are you?”

“Well”—Liam fumbled a bit—“not _morally_ or anything. But I don't really—”

“Oh my god.”

Niall made a noise of frustration and gave Liam a strained smile. “Please ignore Zayn. He's in a snippy mood tonight.” He leaned in, mock whispering. “Tesco ran out of his favorite hair gel.”

Zayn made an indignant sound as the others muffled their laughter. “I would never put anything from Tesco in my hair, Horan.”

Niall ignored him, staring meaningfully at Harry and Louis. “Louis, why don't you show Harry around?” He took Liam by the arm. “Come on Liam, I'll introduce you to some of the other, non-wanker, people here.”

Liam's eyebrows rose in surprise and he glanced at Harry. “Well um, I think—”

“Come on Liam!” Niall said cheerfully, drowning out whatever Liam had been going to say. As he dragged Liam away, Niall cast another pointed look over his shoulder at the two of them.

Zayn glanced between Harry and Louis, who were awkwardly avoiding each other's eyes. He scoffed and muttered something under his breath, turning on his heel and leaving them alone.

“Well that was subtle.”

Harry let out a bark of laughter before biting his lip nervously.  Louis found it oddly endearing.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. He seemed more relaxed. “You'd think he wanted us to talk or something.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth curved upwards. Niall must’ve been pestering Harry as well. “Um." Louis didn’t know what to do from here. "Do you want to—Niall has this patio thing—” He gestured to the back of the house with a helpless wave.

Harry nodded. “Sure.” They started towards the patio. “But, uh, do think I could get a beer or something first?”

Louis couldn't help but give him a sly grin. “What, do you need to be drunk to talk to me?”

Harry shrugged. “Couldn't hurt.”

Louis let out a huff of laughter and the two stepped past the sliding doors onto the outside patio. Louis opened the cool box, grabbing a can of beer and handing it to Harry. They stood there in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before Louis blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“So look I'm sorry about that whole thing, you know, that happened.”

Harry hummed noncommittally.

“I didn't know about Simon having you on probation. Or that he'd flip over something like that.” Louis shifted his feet. “I suppose I pushed a bit hard about the rumors,” he continued, looking down. “Was kind of a tosser about it actually."

Harry snorted. “Kind of?”

Louis looked over at Harry, who was grinning. He gave him a mock glare. “Shush, I'm trying to apologize here.”

“Oh is that what this is?” Harry asked with a cheeky smile. Louis found himself grinning back without realizing. “I'm listening.” Harry mimed zipping his mouth closed. If Louis' eyes lingered a moment too long on his lips neither one of them commented on it.

“Er—” Louis paused. “Well I think that's all I had actually.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “You don't do this apology thing a lot do you?”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “Are you always this cheeky?”

“Are you always this _awkward?”_ Harry countered.

Louis rolled his eyes, determined not to blush. “No.”

“I guess I'll just feel special then,” Harry said, winking at him.

Now Louis' face was definitely pink. “Don't get used to it, Styles.”

Harry took another drink from his can, a gleam in his eye. “Hmmm. We'll see.”

Louis leaned against the wall of the house. “Usually I'm better at the whole apology thing.” He gave Harry a sheepish look. “Generally make better first impressions too.”

Harry smiled. “Second.”

Louis' forehead furrowed in confusion.

“Your first impression was great,” Harry explained. “It was your second that was shit.”

Louis grinned as remembered the prank. “Impressed were you?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “A bit.” He cast a sidelong look at Louis and his voice dropped. “Thought you seemed like trouble to be honest.”

Louis found himself leaning forward slightly to hear Harry better, just like last time. This time however, he didn't really feel like pulling back. “And is that a bad thing?”

“It was at the time,” Harry murmured. His eyes slid away from Louis to stare out into the back garden.

“And now?”

Harry smirked and took a sip from his drink, still looking out.

“What? Nothing to say?” Louis teased.

“I'm thinking.”

“You're thinking awfully hard there, princess.” The nickname slipped out at the last second and Louis tensed, wondering if he’d crossed a line. But if they couldn't joke around Louis wasn't sure how this was going to work.  Whatever 'this' was, anyway.

Harry turned to him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Louis attempted a weak smile.

Abruptly, Harry grinned in return. “Styles. Princess. You realize you can call me Harry, right? You know, if we're going to be friends.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Oh, are we friends now?”

Harry gave him a considering look. “Maybe. I haven't quite decided if I've forgiven you yet,” he said loftily.

Louis made an affronted sound. “After that brilliant apology? How could you say no?”

Harry smirked again. “Maybe I just want to say no to you. Somehow I get the feeling you don't hear it a lot.”

Louis smirked back. “And somehow I think I could say the same about you.”

“Well, you'd be right,” Harry replied, his tone suggesting something that Louis couldn't exactly name. They locked eyes and Louis was reminded of the first time they’d seen each other outside the headmaster's office. But before any sort tension could build again Harry cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing.

“But I suppose I could forgive you,” Harry continued. “Just this once.” They started back towards the door.

“Niall will be happy to hear it."

Harry paused and Louis had to stop short to avoid running into him.  Harry turned to face him. “Just Niall?”

Louis stared at him a moment, a tiny smile forming on his face. “I suppose I am too.”

“Good.”

Louis inhaled sharply, realizing how close they were standing. He took a side step around Harry and opened the door. “Well you don't have to sound so smug about it, Harry,” he said, going back to his teasing tone.

Harry beamed at the use of his first name. “Who's being smug?” His shoulder brushed Louis' chest as he walked through the door. “Just keeping you on your toes, Lou.”

 

+

 

Liam took another sip of his Coke and relaxed into one of the armchairs in the corner. After Niall dragged him away from the rest of the group they walked around getting to know each other and Niall introduced him to a bunch of people who probably wouldn't remember his name tomorrow. Still, Liam liked Niall a lot with his easy smile and friendly nature. They were definitely opposites in some ways: Niall and his loud personality were constantly the center of attention, while Liam was quieter and not quite as outgoing. Niall didn't seem to mind though (which was another point in his favor) and just talked enough for the both of them.

Harry and Louis eventually finished their secret talk and caught up with them—a talk that went very well from the looks of things. The two had entered, arms around each other's shoulders and drinks in hand, laughing as if they'd been friends for a lifetime.

Liam was relieved to be honest. He'd been hearing about “Louis Tomlinson” from day one of Harry's arrival at Haslington. Despite their almost non-existent interaction in the beginning, Harry somehow still found a way to insert Louis into every conversation. Even without him going on about Louis' gorgeous blue eyes or perfect laugh, Liam would've known his friend had a major crush.

Liam hadn't wanted to squash Harry's excitement, but his sensible side kept rearing its head to remind Harry that he didn't even know if Louis was into guys. Liam hated to be the constant downer, but he knew Harry tended to get carried away very easily. And even if he didn't like to admit it, he got hurt pretty easily too.

Then Louis turned into “that massive prat who almost got me kicked out of Haslington” and Harry had stopped talking about him for awhile. Liam thought his whole obsession had blown over until a few days ago when he'd gotten an almost unintelligible call from Harry rambling on about Niall and a party and Louis Tomlinson and could Liam pretty please come up to Haslington on Saturday to save him. Liam agreed to come to the rescue even though he still wasn't 100% sure what exactly he was rescuing Harry from.

But now Harry appeared perfectly at ease in the company of Louis and Liam was happy to see the two of them getting along so well. Though occasionally when Louis had his head thrown back in laughter or was telling a story, hands gesturing everywhere, or even when he was just looking in the opposite direction, Liam could see Harry gazing affectionately at him with hearts in his eyes.

Liam shook his head at the thought. Harry was always terrible at hiding his feelings.

Liam couldn't get a read on Louis though. Granted he had no so-called “gay-dar” to speak of, but he still tried to see if Louis might've been interested. In the end, he figured Louis was interested alright, but he didn't know if it was just in friendship or in something more.

Liam let out pained grunt, his thoughts interrupted as someone tumbled into his lap. Not entirely unexpected given the overall level of drunkenness taking place, but Liam was still surprised when he looked down and saw—

“Zayn?”

Zayn gazed up at Liam with bleary eyes. “Do I know you?” he slurred.

Liam frowned. He was completely sloshed. “Um. It's Liam. Harry's friend?”

Zayn peered at him for a moment, still reclining across Liam's lap. He shook his head very slowly. “Nope. No idea.”

With a sigh, Liam started to scan the room for one of the guys. Niall disappeared sometime ago, but Harry and Louis had just gone in search of more drinks.

Zayn began to shift around with a complete lack of coordination, attempting to sit up.

“Whoa.” Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist to stop him from falling to the floor.

Zayn didn't really seem to notice and pulled himself upright in Liam's lap. He peered at Liam again, his face close. Liam could smell the alcohol and sweat wafting off him with a hint of something spicy that must’ve been cologne.

“Lee-yum.” Zayn dragged out Liam's name. “Leeee-yum.”

“Yeah. Liam Payne?” Liam tried again. “From Holmes Chapel?”

“Oh!” Zayn perked up. “Liam Payne! Harry's friend. From Holmes Chapel!”

Liam stared at him apprehensively. “Right. You're sloshed.”

Zayn gave him a look like he was stupid. “What was your first clue?”

Liam rolled his eyes. _Even when he's pissed out of his mind this guy has an attitude._

“Come on, up you go.” Liam stood, a supportive arm still around Zayn's waist.

Zayn rested his head on Liam's shoulder as he led them across the room. “What're you doing?” he mumbled, his face pressed against Liam's neck. Liam pulled his head away, uncomfortable with how Zayn's lips were brushing over his skin.

Zayn pouted, lifting his head slightly. “No fun Liam.” He put his head back down again as if the effort of holding it up was too much. “No fun Liam,” he repeated, his voice muffled by Liam's shirt.

“Not sure if I like that nickname actually,” Liam muttered.

“Tough.” Zayn raised his head again and pointed at Liam, well pointed to the side of Liam anyway. Zayn frowned at his finger. He tried again, this time successfully aiming an emphatic point at Liam's face.

Liam raised his eyes heavenward, wondering how he got himself into these situations. “We're getting you some water,” he explained as they entered the kitchen. Liam let go of Zayn's waist and made sure he wasn't going to fall over before looking around for a clean cup. “And then I'm finding Niall so he can tell me what to do with you.”

Zayn leaned heavily on the worktop, regarding Liam through hooded lids. Liam handed Zayn a cup of water and stared at him until he began to drink. Finally, Zayn drained the cup and pulled it away from his lips.

“Liam Payne.” His voice was thick and raspy. “Are you taking care of me?”

Liam ignored the question, plucking the cup out of Zayn's loose grip and filling it up again. At least his eyes looked a little less glazed over. He handed the cup back to Zayn. “Drink.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest and started to drink again, his eyes not leaving Liam's. Liam stared back impassively, keeping eye contact as if Zayn would dart off the second Liam looked away. Zayn finished, placing the cup on the worktop.

“Come on, let's go find Niall,” Liam said. Instinctively, he put his arm around Zayn's waist again so Zayn could lean on him.

Zayn smirked. “So you are taking care of me.”

Liam shrugged with the shoulder not currently supporting Zayn and guided him out of the kitchen. Zayn was still staring, but Liam ignored him, searching the room to try and catch sight of Niall in the crowd.

Zayn hummed quietly and wrapped his arm around Liam's shoulder. He leaned in close. “Is this the part where I'm supposed to say 'but who takes care of Liam?'“ Zayn asked softly, his breath ghosting over the shell of Liam's ear.

Zayn made disgruntled sound in the back of his throat when Liam didn't so much as flinch and instead continued to search the room.

Liam kept a straight face and tried not to smile while Zayn pouted. It was clear Zayn wasn't used to being ignored.  Right as he felt Zayn leaning over again to do god knows what, they were interrupted by a loud shout.

“Liam!”

Zayn turned his head abruptly to see who it was. The sharp movement was too much for his drunken state however, and he stumbled. Liam merely tightened his grip and hauled him back upright. He didn't feel particularly heavy, especially considering Liam did boxing training three times a week. Though he couldn't help but flush a little when he heard Zayn murmur something that sounded suspiciously like _'Oh. Strong.'_

“Louis,” Liam said gratefully as Louis and Harry reached them.

“And Zayn?” Louis questioned, looking confused.

Liam sighed. “He's pissed.”

“I'm pissed,” Zayn repeated, nodding matter-of-factly. “And Liam here”—his voice dropped to a loud whisper—“is _taking care of me.”_

Liam pulled a face. “Listen, do you know where Niall is? Or if there's somewhere around here that he can sleep it off?”

“Yeah, we're all crashing here tonight, so he can use one of the bedrooms upstairs. Who knows where Niall is.” Louis made a suggestive grin. “Probably in a room himself already, getting off with some girl.”

“We haven't even been here that long,” Harry said, his voice rising in surprise. “Really? Niall?”

Louis shook his head. “And that reaction is _exactly_ why he always gets so lucky. No one expects it. They all think he's so _adorable_ and _sweet_ and _innocent_.” Louis snorted. “Niall, innocent. But it works every time. For how much he gets around I'm not sure how people haven't caught on yet.”

“I _am_ adorable.” Niall had appeared out of nowhere, an open bag of crisps in hand. “And it's called discretion, Louis. Subtlety? Which you, of course, would know nothing about.”

Louis raised a skeptical eyebrow before glancing at the rest of the group. “It's called being good with his tongue.” Louis licked his lips lewdly.

Niall made an unapologetic grin, popping some crisps into his mouth. “Hey don't knock my skills just because you haven't got any.”

Louis let out an exaggerated gasp. “Hey I have plenty of skills. I've had no complaints whatsoever—”

Niall shook his head somberly. “Discretion, Lou. Di-scre-tion. Anyway, obviously I haven't left yet so what's going on?” He stared at Liam and Zayn, looking puzzled for a moment, and then shrugged, shoving another handful of crisps in his mouth. “Zayn shitfaced again?”

“Yep,” Louis replied.

“Yep,” Zayn repeated drunkenly. “And Liam is _taking care of me.”_

Normally Liam wasn't embarrassed by his need to take care of everybody, but for some reason he really wished Zayn would stop saying it like that.

Niall looked surprised. “Really? Good luck with that one. Usually we just let people pass out in a corner somewhere with a bucket.”

Liam made an involuntary sound of alarm in the back of his throat. “But what about alcohol poisoning? Or if he blacks out? Or—” Liam saw their blank stares and let it go with a sigh. “Nevermind. Just tell me where can I put him? Preferably _not_ in a corner?”

Niall motioned towards the stairs. “Upstairs, bedroom all the way at the back.” He fished a key out of his pocket and handed it to Liam.

Niall glanced at Zayn with a dubious expression. “Er, do you need help?” Harry and Louis had already gone back to giggling about something in hushed voices.

“No thanks,” Liam said, taking in Niall's own, slightly less obvious, state of inebriation. “I got it. Be back in a minute.”

Niall nodded gratefully and wandered off again while Liam and Zayn made their way towards the bedroom. Liam managed to get them both up the stairs and to the room, only panting slightly. He let go of Zayn, who fell back onto the bed.

The other boy had been surprisingly quiet the past few minutes, but Liam wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he didn't mention it. He pulled off Zayn's shoes, resting them on the floor and then looked around for a rubbish bin.

“Alright”—He pulled a small bin from the corner and placed it next to the bed—“I'm going to get you some more water and find some paracetamol.” Liam gave Zayn a stern look. “Stay here.”

Zayn mumbled back vaguely. He was blinking heavily, clearly almost asleep. Liam left the bedroom and headed back downstairs to get a cup of water. He grabbed some paracetamol from the bathroom on his way back up and re-entered the bedroom.

Zayn was still lying on the bed, his limbs spread out, reminding Liam of a starfish. Liam's lips twitched involuntarily, wanting to smile. He put the water and pills on the nightstand and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed next to Zayn.

“Come on.” He gently pulled at Zayn's shoulders. “You can't sleep like that. Let's get you on your side.” Zayn murmured incoherently and shifted a tiny bit. He didn't seem like such a prat when he was like this, all sleepy and pliant.

Liam moved Zayn around until he was on his side and Zayn curled himself into a fetal position. Liam leaned over him, taking the blanket from the end of the bed and draping it over him. As he was about to leave however, he felt Zayn's hand wrap around his wrist, holding him in place. Liam looked down at his hand in bewilderment. He tried to tug away, but Zayn had gotten a strong grip.

Liam frowned, looking at him. “What?”

Zayn was once again staring at Liam with hooded eyes, but this time they were sparkling mischievously. “Aren't you going to give me a goodnight kiss?” he whispered. His voice still sounded a little rough and gravely.

Liam didn't miss the smug undertone to his words either.

A flicker of irritation shot through him. From the instant they were introduced Zayn had been trying to push his buttons, but he hadn't seemed to realize that Liam could push right back.

Liam regarded him coolly. He didn't want to give Zayn the satisfaction of seeing him flustered. Instead, he slowly leaned down towards him, his eye contact never wavering. He felt a flash of victory when he saw Zayn's eyes widen the closer he got.

Zayn looked frozen in place by the time Liam was almost a breath away from his lips, but rather than pressing forward that last inch, Liam abruptly changed direction and placed a quick peck on his forehead. Liam stood and easily pulled his wrist from Zayn's now loose grip. He smirked, seeing Zayn still staring at him in shock.

“Goodnight Zayn,” Liam said cheerfully. He left the room and closed the door behind him without a backwards glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so ziam begins! :) Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Harry groaned, twisting his head in an attempt to avoid the harsh sunlight falling on his face. He didn't know what time it was, but he did know it was way too early to be awake considering the time he'd finally gotten to bed. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted awful in the way that could only signify a very good party the night before. Harry nuzzled into his pillow, hoping he could drift off to sleep again.

His warm… and breathing pillow?

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes and tried to blink away the rough feeling. Tilting his head up, he caught sight of someone's jawline above him. A rather strong, attractive jawline, in fact. Unthinkingly, he raised his hand to touch it, brushing his fingers across the barest hint of stubble. All of a sudden the jaw moved.

“Uh, Harry?”

Harry stopped, blinking rapidly as his eyes widened.

His warm, breathing, _talking_ pillow.

Harry jerked back with a tiny yelp, tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. He let out a pitiful groan at the pain spiking through his body.

Louis' face appeared over the edge the bed, his forehead furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Harry wheezed out. “Just peachy.”

Louis grinned. “Not my fault you freaked out. Not one for a good cuddle then?”

“I like cuddles just fine,” Harry grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. He pouted. “You startled me.”

Louis’ grin twisted into a smirk. “Yeah well, so did waking up to you caressing my face, but you don't see me on the floor do you?”

Harry groaned again, throwing an arm over his face. “Shut up.” Louis started to laugh.

“Thought I heard something.”

Louis looked over to the doorway and spotted Liam, who had poked his head into the room.

“Is he okay?” Liam was staring at Harry on the floor. Louis started laughing again and Harry simply waved a dismissive hand, his other arm still over his eyes.

“Okay,” Liam said warily. In the short amount of time that Harry and Louis had become HarryandLouis, Liam had learned most times it was best not to ask. “I just wanted to check in.” His eyes flitted over to Zayn, who was blissfully asleep on the other side of the bed. “Niall is around somewhere. I'm off to have a run. I'll be back in a bit.”

Louis stopped laughing and his expression changed to one of disbelief. “A run?”

Liam was already shifting from foot to foot, warming up his legs. “Yeah. I like to run in the mornings.”

“Harry.” Louis dangled a leg off the edge of the bed and firmly nudged Harry, his eyes still focused on Liam in horror. “Hazza, Liam just said he was going for a _run_. On the morning after a party. He _likes_ it.”

Harry sighed and heaved himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, I know.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head where it’d hit the floor. Louis absentmindedly dropped a hand down, gently massaging it as well. Harry closed his eyes and let his own hand fall away. “You get used to it,” he mumbled. He was more focused on Louis' fingers, pushing into his touch and nearly purring with contentment.

Liam glanced between the two of them with a vaguely bewildered expression on his face. “Well… I'm off.” He refocused on Harry. “Um, breakfast when I get back?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

Harry opened his eyes a sliver and gave Liam a soft smile. “Yeah okay.”

Louis' hand stopped, his eyes narrowed at Harry. “Wait, you can cook?”

Harry pouted and tilted his head in an attempt to get Louis to start petting him again. “Yes.”

Louis grinned. “Fantastic!” He rapped Harry on top of his head.

Harry made a noise of protest, jerking away and rubbing the spot. He glared up at Louis.

Louis kept grinning and hopped off the bed. “What are you waiting for? There's food to be made.” He bent down and looped his arm around Harry's, dragging him up.

Harry rose reluctantly. “What makes you think you're getting any?”

“I have to,” Louis pouted. “Or I'll starve.”

Liam shook his head at the both of them. “I'm off. See you two later.”

“Bye,” Harry called as he left. He pulled his arm out of Louis' grip and started towards the door.

Louis' eyes widened. “Wait you _are_ going to feed me, right? You wouldn't let me starve?”

Harry walked out of the bedroom with Louis trailing behind him.

“Haz?” Louis tried again, his voice taking on a more alarmed tone. “Hazza?”

Harry glanced at him, a gleam in his eye. “I just might.” He whipped back around, laughing as he dashed down the steps. Harry was downstairs and almost to the kitchen when Louis caught up and attempted to tackle him from behind.

Harry groaned at the added weight, still laughing. “Get off, it's too early for this.” He tried to tug Louis' arms from around his neck.

Louis held on. “No! Not until you agree to cook for me. Please? Please please please?”

Harry tucked his hands under Louis’ thighs and hoisted him up into a piggy back ride. Louis took it in stride, keeping one arm around Harry’s shoulders and using the other to tickle him wherever he could reach.

Harry twisted trying to avoid his fingers, but he still didn’t let go of him.  “Okay,” Harry relented, gasping from laughter and exertion. “Fine, I'll do it!”

Louis grinned. “I knew you'd see it my way.” He wriggled off Harry and back onto the floor.

Harry tried to ignore the places their bodies were sliding against each other and made a conscious effort to not let his hands linger over Louis’ legs as he got down. Harry wet his lips and took a breath before turning around to face him. “But only if you help me.”

Louis shrugged. His cheeks were flushed a bright red. “Sure.”

Harry regretted asking Louis to help with breakfast about five minutes later (there was an unfortunate incident with a whisk and now there were more ingredients splattered on the worktop than in the bowl) and banished him to one of the kitchen bar stools to watch. Harry puttered around the kitchen gathering the rest of the things he needed while Louis entertained him with stories about himself growing up.

Despite how normal it appeared, it all still felt surreal to Harry. Leaving Holmes Chapel and going to Haslington was weird enough, but now he was in his pants and a t-shirt making breakfast for Louis Tomlinson of all people.

Harry cracked an egg into one frying pan and started to lay down slices of eggy bread in the other, nodding along with whatever Louis was saying.

After their talk last night Harry found that he and Louis actually got on quite well. They’d immediately fallen into this sort of teasing relationship, chockfull of banter and innuendo. It turned out that Louis really was as great as Harry had imagined before their confrontation made him seem like a massive prat.

Louis was loud and over the top, but he was also outrageously funny and had a clever comment for everything. Harry had never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly. It helped that Louis immediately treated him as though they’d already been friends for ages.

Harry gripped the handle of the first frying pan and flipped the egg with a flick of his wrist. The corner of his mouth curved up into an easy smile as he heard Louis make an impressed whistle in the background.

But if Harry had thought being Louis’ faux-enemy was difficult—with their heated staring contests and electric, accidental brushes against each other in the halls—being his friend was ten times worse.

Louis was clearly an affectionate person with everybody and he made no exceptions with Harry. Harry himself had always been sort of physical as well, so between the two of them things had definitely gotten a bit… handsy.

Harry’s grip around the handle tightened.

It was both wonderful and torturous. He couldn't deny that he got a little thrill every time Louis put an arm around his shoulders or guided him with a hand on the small of his back or leaned in a little closer than necessary to whisper in his ear. And yeah, sometimes Harry would get caught up in it all and forget to listen to the little voice in the back of his head reminding him that Louis was his _friend_ and most likely straight. Instead Harry would end up staring at Louis too long or pressing back into his innocent touches or focusing more on his lips than the words coming out of them.

Harry knew he wasn't exactly the most subtle person and he’d caught Liam giving him worried glances all last night. But he couldn't help it. Louis was just so—

“Oi! Hazza! I'm no chef but I'm pretty sure that side is done.”

Harry jolted out of his thoughts and swore under his breath. He picked up the frying pan, sliding the egg onto a waiting plate before going to flip over the bread slices. They were a little crispy, but still salvageable.

Louis regarded him curiously. “What were you thinking about?”

Harry froze, his mind going unhelpfully blank. “Uh—”

“Do I smell breakfast?” Niall rounded the corner, inhaling deeply. Harry let out a relieved breath, never happier for Niall's penchant for detecting food.

Niall's eyes lit up as he came up behind Harry and spotted the plates. He gazed at Harry in awe. “You can cook?” Niall grabbed his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.  “God I knew there was a reason I made friends with you.”

Harry grimaced and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “And here I thought it was my dazzling personality.”

Niall snagged a sausage link from the pile Harry had already cooked. “Nah.” He went over to sit by Louis. “Where's everybody else?”

“Zayn's probably still asleep,” Louis replied. “Liam went out awhile ago for a run.”

Niall's eyes widened. _“A run?”_

“I know! That's what I said.”

 

+

 

Liam slowed to a walk as he made his way up Niall's driveway and around the back of the house. Pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes, he came to an abrupt stop in front of the garden patio. Zayn was leaning against the house, a lit cigarette between his fingers. Liam was startled to see that despite his undeniably rough night, the other boy appeared perfectly put together.

Zayn regarded him with an indifferent stare.

Liam nodded his head in greeting, giving him a guarded look as he inched his way towards the door. Just when he thought he would pass without so much as a “hi,” Zayn spoke up.

“Did you go running?”

Liam tried not to bristle, once again hearing the underlying disgust in Zayn's tone. “Yes,” he responded evenly.

Zayn frowned. _“Why?”_

“I like it.”

Zayn gave him blank look before taking a drag of his cigarette. He shifted his gaze out toward the back garden. “You like a lot of weird things, Liam Payne.”

Liam crossed his arms. “I'm pretty sure that's just your opinion. And there's nothing wrong with liking to keep in shape.” He eyed Zayn's cigarette with a grimace. “Unlike some habits."

Zayn scoffed and took another drag. He turned towards Liam, exhaling in his face.

Liam wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in an attempt to dissipate the smoke. Zayn smirked and Liam shook his head. “Those are really bad for you, you know.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Really? I've never heard that.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth. “Please, tell me more.”

Liam's lips thinned in irritation. “I'm only saying that smoking has a lot of long-term _and_ short-term side effects. Especially starting so young, it can have terrible consequences. You should—”

“For fuck's sake, shut _up_. Why don't you get down from your high horse and piss off.”

Liam uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “It can cause heart disease, it's addictive—”

Zayn twisted to face him, his eyes glittering in anger. “No shit. I got that part thanks.”

Liam paused. “Right. Sorry.”

Zayn huffed and shoved himself off the wall. “You know what your problem is? You really are no fun. At least I know how to live a little. I don't act like I'm some 85-year-old man instead of a proper 16-year-old.”

Unconsciously, Liam’s hands clenched into fists, any guilt he might’ve felt evaporating.  “Just because I don't like destroying my body doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun. What fun are hangovers and smoker's lung anyway? At least I'll live past my 60th birthday—”

“But what's the use being that old if you never _do_ anything?” Zayn was almost yelling. “And who are you to judge other people's lives, anyway?” He seemed to have dropped his cool exterior as his arm gestured about, cigarette forgotten. “Why do you always have to meddle? Why do you have to give lectures when clearly _no one wants to hear them?”_

“Because I care!” Liam interjected.

Zayn stopped mid-gesture, a baffled expression coming over his face. “What?”

Liam stared at him, slightly puzzled at the abrupt change. “Because I care,” he repeated.

Zayn’s expression turned disbelieving. “Beca- because you _care?”_ He let out a short laugh. “What, about me?” He shook his head dismissively and inhaled from his cigarette again. “You don't even know me.”

Liam's eyebrows drew together with even more confusion. “So?”

Zayn paused, cigarette halfway to his mouth, visibly thrown by his response. “So?” he echoed, askance.

The two stared at each other for a moment, Liam still looking confused and Zayn still in disbelief. The silence was broken by a small chuckle emerging from Zayn, which soon became full on laughter. Liam shifted his weight, increasingly bewildered and a tad apprehensive. He wasn’t getting the joke.

Finally Zayn's laughter died down and he stared at Liam, shaking his head in amusement.  “You're actually for real aren't you?”

Liam's frown deepened. “What else would I be?” His voice sounded wary and he was sort of concerned about Zayn's sanity.

Zayn leaned back against the wall. “Most people aren't all that honest,” he explained as he regarded Liam with a bit of interest. “People can take advantage of you that way.”

Liam hesitated, his face turning serious. “Is that why you act like you're so cool all the time? Because someone took advantage of you?”

Zayn's eyes narrowed. “Don't act like you know my life story,” he snapped.

“There's nothing wrong with caring about people, Zayn.” Liam gave him a sad look.

Zayn put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the patio table. His lips twisted into a condescending smile.”Oh I beg to differ, _Liam_. A lot can go wrong from caring about people.”

Liam’s shoulders slumped, his expression doubtful and a little out of sorts.

Zayn made a soft sigh, rolling his eyes. He pushed away from the wall to go back inside the house. “Thanks for taking care of me last night though, I guess,” he said grudgingly.

A large smile broke out on Liam’s face. “You're welcome,” he replied, completely sincere.

Zayn let out another incredulous laugh. “Don't ever lose that innocence, Liam.” He gave Liam’s cheek a fond pat and Liam grimaced slightly. “It looks good on you.” Zayn stared at him a moment, his hand still cupping Liam's face.

Liam waited for Zayn to drop his hand, but instead he kept it there, his thumb gently brushing across Liam's cheekbone. Liam's eyes widened and his heartbeat increased in alarm. “Are you flirting with me?” he blurted out.

Zayn let his hand fall away and burst into laughter.

Liam swallowed dryly, actively resisting the urge to rub his cheek where Zayn had been touching him.  Instead he stood there, tense and nervous, until Zayn stopped laughing again.

Zayn glanced at him, amusement and something else dancing in his eyes. “Not yet.” Zayn opened the door to the house and with one last glance, disappeared inside.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more ziam! I had a lot of fun with this chapter :)
> 
> note about the ziam storyline in general though- they have some, uh, poor communication going on. there's no sex, but if anything less than explicit enthusiastic consent squicks you out I wanted you to know. it'll be more relevant later and I'll probably add chapter specifics then.

Liam sighed and set down the DVDs as he heard Harry's muffled laughter behind him. He swiveled around from his position on the floor. Harry was lying on Liam's bed, mobile in hand. That had been the seventh time he'd giggled in the past ten minutes.

Liam watched as Harry's fingers flew over the screen, replying to a text. He leaned back on his hands and wondered how long it'd take Harry to notice him this time.

A few seconds later Harry paused. He looked over at Liam, a sheepish expression coming over his face. “Sorry.” He let go of the mobile and sat up.  “What were we doing again?”

“We were supposed to be figuring out something to do.”

“Right,” Harry said enthusiastically. “Movies. Um. What were the choices again?”

Liam shook his head and got up to sit next to him. He raised his eyebrows knowingly. “What's Louis saying now?”

Harry's face flushed pink. “Nothing.” He sounded completely unconvincing.

Liam gave him a doubtful look.

They'd only left Halsingnton three days ago, but ever since Harry had been texting the other boys continually and by “the other boys” Liam mostly meant Louis. Even with Liam and Harry hanging out a lot, Liam still had to deal with Harry's near constant inattention to anything but his mobile. And if he wasn't on his mobile he was probably distracted by thinking about his mobile.

Nonetheless, Liam wasn't really upset with him. It was like he was a puppy with a new toy and Liam couldn't find it in himself to be irritated at his excitement. “What is it?” Liam asked again.

Harry made what was probably supposed to be an innocent smile. “Doesn't matter. I promise I'm paying attention—”

His mobile vibrated. Harry broke off, his head snapping toward it before giving Liam a shifty glance.

“Harry…”

“There's a party,” Harry said in a rush. He continued, slower this time. “It isn't Niall's, but he convinced his brother to let them tag along to this thing one of his mates is having.”

“Let me guess, Louis wants you to come? And you want to go?”

Harry ducked his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “We don't have to...”

Liam laughed and nudged Harry with his elbow. “Yeah, let's go to Haslington.”

Harry's eyes brightened. “Really? You're sure you don't mind?”

“Nah, I like hanging out with them.” He kicked at the pile of DVDs at their feet.  “And it's not like there's anything going on here.”

Harry grinned and reached for his mobile. “Thanks.” His hand stopped, hovering above his phone. “You’re sure you don't mind?” he asked in a cautious tone. “Because Zayn is probably there and I know you two didn't exactly get on that well last time.”

Liam shrugged and looked down, toeing the edge of his rug, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “No, we can go. Zayn's alright.”

Harry made humming noise like he didn’t quite believe him.

Liam gave him a small smile.  “Okay, yeah, at first he wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around. But he…” Liam was definitely turning red now. “There's more to him.” He cleared his throat. “Than I thought.”

Harry's forehead furrowed and he still seemed unconvinced, but then his face cleared. “Typical Liam, always seeing the best in people. You—”

Harry's mobile started to ring, which usually happened whenever he didn't reply to Louis within the ‘appropriate amount of time' (i.e. instantly). Harry tore his gaze from the mobile and gave Liam a hopeful look.

Liam rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "Go ahead. I'm going to go check with my mum.” He made to leave the room. “Don't forget to call yours,” Liam reminded Harry on his way out, but Harry's attention was already miles away as he chatted excitedly on his phone, lying back down on Liam's bed.

+

Niall bent over, bursting into hysterical laugher at something or other. Liam winced as some of his drink sloshed onto the coffee table (again). They’d all started to make drinks while they waited for the rest of Greg's mates to show up before leaving for the party.

Liam stood, still eyeing the (very expensive looking) coffee table that was quickly becoming filthier and filthier. “Er, I'm just going to get some napkins,” he said to no one in particular and headed off to the kitchen.

He stopped short as he entered, spotting Zayn by the kitchen table with his back towards him. Liam hadn't realized this was where he’d disappeared to. Hesitantly, he walked further inside, watching as Zayn finished filling two shot glasses and then downed them in quick succession.

“Got a problem, Payne?” His back was still to Liam. Zayn turned around and leaned against the table, quirking an eyebrow.

“No,” Liam responded, a defiant edge to his tone.

Zayn stared at him in mild surprise. “No?” His expression turned somber. “What, you don't care about me anymore?”

Liam's face fell in dismay. “What? No, I—”

Zayn let out a bark of laughter. “Calm down, I'm just pulling your chain. Wow, you have got to _relax.”_  Liam flushed and Zayn moved to refill both of the glasses. He gave Liam a questioning glance and held one out to him.

Liam shook his head firmly. “No thanks.”

Zayn eyed him for another moment before shrugging and throwing it back himself.

Liam watched him cautiously. “Are you going to go easy tonight?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

A little smirk appeared on Zayn's face. “Nope. Never do.”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to take care of me again?”

Liam shifted against the worktop, feeling awkward. He wondered if he was imagining the slightly suggestive lilt to Zayn's voice. “No,” he mumbled.

“No?” Zayn’s voice sounded doubtful.

Liam squirmed under Zayn's unwavering gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Well I'm not just going to let you _die_ or something, am I?”

Zayn grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “Aw, there's my Liam. Thought I'd lost him there for a second.”

Liam blushed again. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Zayn laughed softly and picked up the remaining shot glass. Liam tried to look unconcerned, but he couldn't help but eye the drink warily.

Zayn shook his head. “Oh stop worrying. It's for _Louis_ ,” he said, squeezing past Liam to leave the kitchen.

Liam pushed back into the worktop in surprise as Zayn's front brushed against his. Zayn raised another eyebrow at him and Liam averted his eyes, convinced his cheeks were never going to stop being red.

The tension slowly melted from his body as Zayn got further from him and closer to the kitchen door.

Zayn stopped walking.

Instead, he turned back to look at Liam. A considering expression crossed his face and then Zayn was taking two strides back toward him, setting down the shot on the worktop. And before Liam could get out so much as a “What?” Zayn had leaned forward and covered Liam's lips with his own.

Liam's eyes fluttered closed instinctively. Zayn's mouth pressed against his, firm, but gentle, his fingers curled around Liam's chin. Liam let out a soft gasp as the other boy briefly nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away. It felt like it was over before it’d even begun.

Liam's eyes flew open in shock, his breath coming in quiet pants. Zayn, however, seemed oblivious to Liam's rising panic and looked him over once more with that same considering expression.

“Hmmm,” Zayn murmured to himself, sounding contemplative. He picked up the shot glass again and left the kitchen without a backwards glance.

Liam stared as the door swung shut behind him, wondering what the hell had just happened. He felt his tongue dart out to lick his lips, but he stopped abruptly, wiping them with the back of his hand instead.

 _What was that about?_ Liam couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Zayn _kissed_ him.

Liam let out a helpless sort of choked noise and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. Tentatively, he poked his tongue out again, slowly running it along his bottom lip. He swore he could taste the faint lingering of vodka and tobacco. It made a jolt of something shoot through him. Not an entirely unpleasurable feeling, but a little too frightening for his liking.

Liam let out a long shuddering breath, attempting to compose himself.

 _Why did he kiss me? **Me** of all people._ _Is he gay?_   Liam wracked his brain frantically for any clues and realized he had no idea whether Zayn was gay or not. _Does he think **I'm** gay? Does he think I want him or something?_

He could admit Zayn was good-looking. Zayn practically oozed an allure that even Liam noticed. But he’d never been attracted to Zayn. Or thought Zayn had been attracted to him.

He frowned.  _Is he attracted to me?_ Liam thought he was alright looking, he wasn't complaining or anything, but Zayn was—

Liam cut off that train of thought and ran a hand though his hair in agitation, not caring that it'd probably be a mess now.

It didn't make any sense. Zayn didn't even _like_ him. Liam wasn't dense, he knew that Zayn thought he was lame and too nice and stupidly naïve. Besides, Liam thought Zayn had only been teasing him with the whole “Not yet” stuff that morning after the party.

 _That must be it. He's only teasing me. Trying to throw me off balance. Joking around._ Liam's heartbeat was finally slowing down. He glared at nothing in particular.

 _Well not funny, Malik._ Liam wouldn’t rise to the bait.

Unthinkingly, Liam licked his lips once more, which only succeeded in making him flinch as his heart jumped again. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. _Pull it together, Liam._ He heard Zayn's words from earlier echoing in his mind. _'You have got to relax.'_

Liam shook his head and stood.  Zayn was just trying to get in his head. It didn't mean anything. He walked out of the kitchen and hoped he seemed steadier than he felt.

Harry looked up as he entered. “Hey, where are the napkins?”

Liam froze. “Right. The napkins. I, uh—” He felt his face starting to heat up and he couldn't help but glance at Zayn, who was calmly sipping his drink, not even looking at him. Liam refocused on Harry with a weak smile. “Oh I must have forgotten. I'll go and grab them.”

Harry gave him a curious stare. “Are you okay?”

Liam nodded a bit too vigorously. “Yeah. Sure, I'm fine. I'm just going to get the napkins.” He turned to head back to the kitchen, but he couldn't resist glancing at Zayn one more time. Zayn appeared to still be looking in the other direction, but Liam saw the tiny smirk on his face nonetheless.

Liam stumbled back into the kitchen, immediately grabbing a handful of napkins so he wouldn’t forget again. He rested his head against a cupboard, steeling himself to go back out into the living room and trying to resist the urge to lick his lips for a third time.

_You win, Zayn. You win._

He licked them anyway.

+

To his surprise, Liam was actually enjoying himself. Even though he didn't drink, it was still nice to go out and act silly and just plain unwind once in awhile. The party was also a great distraction from thinking about Zayn—it helped that Zayn himself wasn’t around either.

After the kitchen incident, Zayn had proceeded to act as though everything was normal. He treated Liam exactly the same as before (i.e. completely ignored his presence) and in turn Liam pretended that nothing had happened at all. Then, once they arrived at the party, Zayn wandered off and Liam hadn't seen much of him since.

So Liam allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security and let down his guard to relax and enjoy the party. Therefore, he didn’t think twice about excusing himself to go grab a Coke from the kitchen.

Liam pushed his way through the throng of people, all moving to the beat of the loud music thumping through the speakers. It was dark and he couldn't really see much besides flailing limbs and gyrating bodies, but he was fairly sure he was headed in the right direction. Just as he managed to free himself from the thickly packed crowd however, someone stepped in front of him.

“Excuse me—” Liam stopped, realizing who was blocking his path. “Zayn?”

Zayn gave him a wide smile and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Liam!” he yelled happily over the music. He pulled Liam next to him so that they were facing the crowd.

Liam stiffened. _Is he going to kiss me again?_

Zayn started to tilt his head closer, but before Liam could fully panic Zayn spoke again—

“Having fun?” he asked loudly. Much to Liam’s relief, he was only close enough so that Liam could hear him. Liam could also smell the faint scent of alcohol on Zayn’s breath, but he didn't seem anywhere near as drunk as he had been that first night.

“Yeah!” Liam replied with a smile he hoped didn't look too forced. “You?” he asked, keeping his voice casual.

Zayn nodded and his gaze lingered on Liam a moment before shifting to the pulsating mass of drunken dancers.

Liam took a steadying breath. _This seems normal enough. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding._

“Listen, about earlier today—”

Zayn made a noise of acknowledgement, but he wasn't even looking at Liam; he was still staring out into the crowd.

“In the kitchen, I mean. I'm not—I mean I don't—”

Zayn turned to him with that same smug little smirk on his face. He leaned in, closer this time, his lips almost brushing Liam's ear. “You say 'don't' an awful lot. You don't drink. You don't smoke. You don't do drugs.” Zayn shifted, pressing even closer.

Liam felt like he couldn't breathe, much less form a coherent thought.

“What else don't you do?” Zayn teased. “Dance?”

Slowly, he stepped away and Liam's lungs regained their ability to function. Zayn didn't let go of him, however. Instead he slid his hand from around Liam's shoulders and encircled his wrist.

Liam had a flash of that first night they’d met _('are you going to give me a goodnight kiss?')_ and swallowed thickly.

Zayn was backing up towards the throng of people and Liam started to shake his head, realizing where he was going with this.

Zayn laughed. “Dance with me.”

Liam found himself being towed into the crowd. He felt stiff and uncomfortable; he wasn't quite sure how his limbs worked anymore. It wasn't like he didn't know how to dance. He did, pretty well actually. Liam just wasn't sure how to dance with _Zayn_.

Zayn finally stopped in the midst of the crowd, his hands sliding up Liam's forearms as he leaned in closer. “Oh come on,” he coaxed, his voice a low rumble. “Who knows when you'll get another chance. I only dance when I’m drunk.”

“I'm sure I'll get plenty of chances then,” Liam retorted impulsively.

Zayn let out a short laugh. “You're funny."

Zayn turned away only to press his back into Liam's chest, drawing his hands around to hold his hips. Liam stared down at him, breathing a little easier now that Zayn wasn't directly in his face. He let himself relax and found himself automatically rocking his hips to match Zayn's rhythm.

Liam wasn't exactly sure why he hadn’t told Zayn to sod off already. For the moment he'd convinced himself that this was just dancing and purely innocent and that it’d be sort of rude to just up and walk away (but then again it could be the way Zayn felt really nice and warm pressed up against him and that Liam wasn't entirely ready to let go).

“Why do you want to dance with me anyway?” he muttered. He didn't think Zayn heard him over the music, but Zayn glanced over his shoulder, giving Liam a sly look. He turned around and Liam inhaled sharply as he ran a finger along Liam's flushed face.

“Because it makes your cheeks go that pretty red color.”

Liam stiffened, a rush of different emotions going through him. Relief. Anger. Disappointment.

“So you _are_ just trying to annoy me.”

Zayn tilted his head to the side, the same playful expression on his face. “Why?” He moved in closer, his arms wrapping around Liam’s neck. He glanced up at Liam before changing the angle of his hips, sliding his leg between Liam's. “Are you annoyed?”

Liam felt his blush deepen. That feeling of not being able to breathe or think was coming back and it certainly wasn't going away as Zayn started to move again, rocking their hips together.

“N- no. Yes, I mean—” Liam stumbled over the words. “I don't—”

Zayn tutted softly in his ear. “There's that word again. ‘Don't.’ You really should broaden your horizons.”

Liam did his best to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine as Zayn's words breathed over his skin. "What do you want?"

"I want a lot of things."

"What do you want _with me."_

Zayn laughed and Liam felt a tendril of trepidation curl in his stomach because that laugh sounded like a promise. Of what, however, was still the question.

"I'll tell you this," Zayn said, his mouth back in its place against Liam's ear. "Maybe I am just trying to get under your skin. Or maybe”—Liam could practically feel the smirk on Zayn's lips—“I'm just trying to get under _you.”_

A small choked off sound rose from the back of Liam's throat and his hands clenched, tightening around Zayn's hips momentarily.

Zayn let out another throaty laugh and nipped at Liam's earlobe before leaning back. “Maybe both,” he added in a flippant tone.

Liam swallowed dryly.

“ _Relax_ , Liam.” His voice sounded perfectly normal again and not as if he was seconds away from sucking Liam off right in the middle of the dance floor. Zayn gave him a broad grin and disentangled their legs. “Just dance.” He turned back around, re-aligning their hips and getting lost in the music.

Liam kind of wanted to stop time and have someone tell him what the hell just happened. But needless to say the universe was not that kind, so Liam's brain did the next best thing and shut down from the overload of attempting to process the last few minutes.

Instead he focused on the basics. Moving. Breathing.  Quite frankly with the way he was becoming hyperaware of everything—the rough feel of Zayn's jeans beneath his palms, the heady scent of smoke, sweat, and alcohol in the air, the almost hypnotizing way their bodies rocked together, the exact distance between his lips and Zayn's neck—the basics were all Liam could handle right now.

The two of them danced for what to him seemed simultaneously like a blink of an eye and forever, but was actually only a couple songs.

Liam blinked as Zayn pulled himself out of his arms. Zayn put a hand on Liam's shoulder, his face coming closer and closer until his lips were only a breath away _(oh god he's going to kiss me what do I do what do I do)_ and he whispered—

“Thanks for the dance, Liam.”

And then Zayn was gone, receding into the dark mob of people surrounding them.

Right on cue, Liam's ability to breath normally came flooding back, unfortunately accompanied by all the panicky thoughts he’d pushed to the back of his mind. For the first time in a while Liam really wished he drank.

Especially when he couldn't seem to get rid of that lingering feeling of disappointment that Zayn had left without kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for reading, and your comments and kudos!! I really appreciate it :) feel free to come talk to me on my 1D tumblr [beckonedbyhopes](http://beckonedbyhopes.tumblr.com) too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for reference to homophobic slur and also a bit of genderism (ie sex=gender)

Louis was a great liar. It was what made him so good at playing practical jokes and talking his way out of trouble and basically charming the pants off anyone he wanted to.

Unfortunately, it also meant that he was pretty good at lying to himself.

For instance, Louis told himself that he wasn't concerned in the slightest what people would think of him and Harry come Monday morning, when it fact, he was. So much that most of his Sunday night was spent tossing and turning instead of sleeping.

Normally, he wouldn't have been anxious at all. Not only because he didn't care what people had to say about him, but also because it wasn't like he treated Harry any differently than his other friends. He'd always been sort of touchy-feely with them. But everyone was used to Louis' perpetual lack of personal space. That's was just _Louis_.

The thing was, it wasn't like Louis had never been called gay before. He went to an all boys' school for Christ's sake. He didn't think anyone got through adolescence without being called a “homo” at least once—and with Louis' at times theatrical personality he'd heard that and worse thrown about behind his back. But he'd never taken it seriously, so neither did anyone else. And when everyone was talking about girls and starting to date, he did the same.

His first girlfriend ever was Emma in Year 9. They’d already been friends for ages, so it just seemed natural to ask her out. She was sweet and funny and Louis had loved every minute of being with her. Simply put, being someone's boyfriend was _nice_. It was nice to have that one person to go out with and cuddle up to in movies and talk to on the phone until you both fell asleep. It was nice just to get to say, “oh, this is my girlfriend.”

But after three months Emma broke it off when she met this guy at her own school, _Jake_ (Louis still hated the name). Eventually, they were friends again, but at the time Louis had been devastated. He'd felt so rejected. And even though Emma said it hadn't been his fault, Louis could never shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong.

He hadn't seriously dated again until last summer. Her name was Beth and they'd had one of those hot and heavy kind of flings that lasted just under two months. Beth had been… something else entirely.

She was the type of girl that knew what she wanted and went for it—and one night at Amber Dean’s pool party she decided that what she wanted was Louis. So after a few jello shots and some not so subtle eye fucking across the back garden, Beth had ended up straddling Louis on a lounge chair and the two of them made out (until Amber’s parents unexpectedly came home to a houseful of drunken teenagers).

Dating Beth was great. She was loud and fearless in a way that rivaled even Louis' daring and she'd certainly made his summer interesting. She'd also wanted to make out _a lot._ And despite how hot she was that wasn’t exactly Louis' cup of tea. Nevertheless, he went with it and everything seemed fine even if she did get a little frustrated with him at times.

Except then she wanted to go further.And Louis didn't. Full stop. He'd briefly considered pretending to, but in the end he figured that wasn’t fair to her or himself. Beth was nice about it and said she understood, but they broke up soon after. It was clear it wasn't going to work.

(Louis had been on edge for days afterwards, wondering if she was going to spill and tell someone exactly why they’d ended things, but he didn't hear so much as a rumor, bless her.)

It wasn't _her_. He just wasn’t ready.

Despite all this however, Louis was still a bit worried about Monday. He might've been good at lying to himself, but even he couldn't deny that there was something different about his and Harry's friendship. Louis was used to making friends easily. He tended to act instantly familiar with people, which let him connect with them quickly. Except never quite as easily or quickly as it had been with Harry.

Harry wasn't like anything Louis had been expecting.

For one, he was incredibly cheeky. But he was also incredibly thoughtful and had a way about him that made people feel completely at ease. He told terrible dirty jokes that somehow still had Louis laughing and even though he blushed much too easily, he always gave as good as he got. Harry was genuine in this unbelievable sort of way, but he still had this subtle wicked streak that Louis liked to bring out in him.

They just clicked. But it was more than a connection. Louis felt like they were drawn to each other. And for some reason he couldn't get enough. Harry was intoxicating.

Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming.

Louis thought that whatever odd tension they had before would disappear now that they were friends. And it had. Kind of.

It turned out that Louis hadn't needed to worry about what people would think of him and Harry. By Monday it was practically old news and everyone assumed the two of them had drunkenly worked out their issues and bonded. But even if everyone else thought that everything was normal Louis himself wasn't all that sure.

Because sometimes he and Harry still got into those weird staring contests except instead of being across the cafeteria or in the middle a crowded hallway, it happened when Harry was sleepy and rested his head on Louis' shoulder or when they'd just had a epic tickle fight and couldn't seem to let go of each other.

And Louis wasn't entirely blind to the other thing either.

He knew that sometimes Harry gave him these looks when he thought Louis couldn't see. And on the one hand in those moments Harry seemed so perfect and happy and like he absolutely adored Louis and it made Louis feel warm and flattered. But on the other hand, sometimes it made a jolt of something darker and rougher shoot through him and it was exhilarating, but he feared it might consume him if he thought too much about it.

So he didn't.

And he did a very good job of not thinking about it for a few weeks until he managed to invite himself to a stranger's birthday party. And that was how he ended up in a loo in Holmes Chapel where he was absolutely **not** freaking out or hiding from Harry.

 

This is how it starts:

 

“So there's a Lost marathon this weekend and I'm thinking we need to make a night of it.”

Niall snorted. “What you mean is that you have the entire fourth season on DVD and you want to force us to watch it with you.”

“Whatever, Niall. Lost is the greatest. Anyway, popcorn, pizza, cookie dough, the usual. Daisy and Phoebe have got a sleepover and Lottie and Felicite are at that moody stage where they're always in their room anyway. So my house?”

Zayn shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Niall rolled his eyes, but nodded as well.

“Great. So—”

“Can't. Sorry.”

The three of them fell into a stunned silence, staring at Harry.

It wasn't like movie nights were particularly exciting or anything, but Harry rarely (read: never) turned down an invitation to hang out with Louis. The two practically spent all their free time together. Weekends, afterschool, lunch, between classes—Niall and Zayn often joked that it was a good thing they were in different years or the two of them might actually meld into one person.

Harry laughed at their reaction. “I really can't.”

“Is about that paper Mr. Thompson assigned?” Louis asked. His eyes narrowed. “Because I told you he doesn't actually read those.”

Harry shook his head.

“Well what's more important than"— _me—"_ movie night?”

Harry took another bite of his pizza, obviously enjoying making them wait. “I'm going back to Holmes Chapel for the weekend.”

“For…?”

“A friend of mine is throwing a party Friday. It's his birthday so I thought I'd go. That and see my family and stuff.”

Louis pouted. “Oh.”

Harry bumped his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile. “C'mon don't be upset. We can do it next weekend.”

Louis continued to pout, picking at his own piece of pizza.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”

Louis stuck his tongue out at him before abruptly sitting up straighter and turning his attention back to Harry. Harry's expression became wary, seeing the glint in his eye.

“So this party… what kind of party is it?” Louis' innocent tone was fooling no one. “Like a massive one? Lots of people?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm. You know I've never been to Holmes Chapel,” he said in a contemplative voice. “I've heard it's lovely. If only I had a reason to go there…”

Harry chuckled as he caught on. “You want to go to the party?”

Louis gave him a wide grin. “Well thanks so much for inviting me, Harry. It's a bit short notice, but I'd love to.”

Harry laughed again, but nodded. “Alright, I'll text Aiden and ask, but knowing him it's probably fine.” He looked over to Zayn and Niall. “How about you guys? It should be fun. Don't know if it'll beat a Lost marathon though.”

Niall nodded immediately.”Definitely, thanks for saving me from that one.”

Zayn agreed as well. “Sure.” He took a sip of his Coke. “Is Liam going to be there?” he asked casually.

Harry regarded him with suspicion. Despite their less than spectacular first interaction, he thought Zayn and Liam were getting along well enough.

Liam had come up to Haslington a few more times since half-term break and the five of them had all hung out. Truthfully “well enough” was them sitting as far away from one another as possible and ignoring each other’s presence, but when Harry tried to question Liam about it he'd immediately gone red and said that everything was fine. Then he clammed up entirely.

“Yeah. Actually, his house is pretty close to the party so we'll probably stop by there first.”

“We should surprise him.”

Harry paused.

“Well he thinks you're the only one coming right? So, you know, don’t mention it and we can surprise him. It'll be fun.” Zayn smiled, seemingly genuine.

Then again Harry still couldn't read Zayn all that well.

“Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “It'll be a surprise.”

 

+

 

Liam was not a fan of surprises. He liked order and planning and any spontaneity in general tended to interfere with that. So when he opened his door expecting to see Harry and instead saw Zayn he sort of felt like his whole world was imploding. Harry, however, just grinned and said “Hey Liam,” like having _Zayn Malik_ on his doorstep was a normal everyday occurrence and pushed past him to go inside followed by Louis and Niall ( _oh yeah they're here too_ ).

Zayn, of course, entered last and probably-most likely-definitely deliberately brushed up against Liam as he passed, practically purring out a soft “Liam” in greeting and Liam really really did not like surprises, okay?

He was pretty much shell-shocked for the first few minutes while Harry made introductions to Liam's parents, though he did hear something about “showing the others Holmes Chapel” and “surprise”. However, it wasn't until they were all settled upstairs in Liam's room that it fully registered that _Zayn_ was currently _lounging on his_ _bed_ still staring at Liam with that stupid shit-eating grin on his face and oh wow, Liam needed to talk to Harry _now_.

“Anyone want something to drink? Water? Juice?” His voice wasn't entirely steady. The others shrugged.

“No thanks, but—” Niall started.

“Great!” Liam exclaimed, not really paying attention. “Harry come help me get some drinks from the kitchen.” Harry gave him an odd look, but stood without protest.

Zayn started to rise as well. “I can come help—”

Liam whipped around, pointing a finger at him. “Stay!” he commanded firmly.

Zayn's eyes widened. Slowly, he lowered himself back down as the rest of the guys continued to stare at Liam, a little bit stunned.

Liam flushed with embarrassment. “No—I mean, you're the guest,” he squeaked out. “It's alright. We got it.”

Liam grabbed Harry by the arm, hauling him out the room and downstairs. Thankfully his parents were nowhere to be seen and he dragged Harry into the kitchen.

Liam leaned against the wall and took a deep breath before rounding on him. “Why didn't you tell me Zayn was coming?!”

Harry stepped back, his palms raised in defense. “It was a surprise!”

Liam moved toward him. “I hate surprises! You know I hate surprises!”

Harry cringed. “I forgot?” he suggested timidly.

Liam groaned, burying his face in his hands and sliding down to sit on the floor.

“I'm really sorry about not telling you.” Harry bit his lip, looking apologetic and uncomfortable. “I should have. I guess didn't think you'd mind and when Zayn suggested it—”

Liam wrenched his hands away from his face. “Zayn suggested it?”

Harry nodded.

Liam huffed and leaned his head back against the wall. “Of course he did.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. “Obviously something is going on. I'm sorry, okay?” He frowned. “I thought you guys said you were getting along fine.”

Liam ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “We are.”

“So what's the problem?”

“It's just- it's not—” Liam tried to find the words.

Harry’s frown faded. “What's up?” he asked gently. He was starting to look worried. “You've been acting weird for ages.”

Liam hesitated. “Well, there has been this other thing going on…”

Harry waited patiently.

“Do you think I’m attractive?” Liam blurted out. He bit his lip immediately after. He hadn't meant to say that, but he wasn't going to take it back now.

Harry's eyes widened. “What?”

Liam took a steadying breath, gazing up at him. “Do you think I'm—”

“No, no”—Harry waved a hand to stop him—“I heard you.”

Harry was silent for another moment, his forehead furrowed as he stared down at the ground. “You—” He gave Liam a cautious look. “Liam. You're my best friend and I love you... but you know it'll always be just as friends right? I don't like you that way. I mean it's great if you want to experiment or whatever, but not with me, yeah?”

Liam’s face started to turn bright red and he shook his head frantically. “No! I'm not interested in you like that.” He sighed and rested his head back against the wall. “It was only a question, honestly.” He needed a better way to explain himself.

“There's this person. And I think they might be interested in me.”

Harry beamed, seeming more than a bit relieved. “That's great.”

“Yeah, but”—Liam’s hands clenched in frustration—“I don't get it. I mean I'm not even—” He swallowed, changing his sentence. “Even I can see that they're attractive. Like ridiculously good-looking. And I just—I don't _get it_.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Seriously? Yes, okay, you’re hot.” Harry gave him an indulgent smile. “Apparently someone still thinks they're that awkward chubby kid with the spiky hair. You've got this whole adorable factor going with the sweet smile and warm brown eyes, your Justin Beiber hair that apparently still makes people swoon.”

Harry motioned with his hand, gesturing at Liam’s body. “And then of course you take off your shirt and well it's kind of unfair actually getting to be hot _and_ adorable. Did you think all that healthy living stuff hadn't made a difference?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Yes Liam, you're sexy, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Liam was blushing and feeling a little awkward, but also more relaxed than before. Though to be honest, this probably wasn’t the strangest conversation they'd ever had.

Harry crossed his arms and a predatory grin came over his face. “Now I've answered your question, so you have to answer mine. Who exactly is this guy that's into you? And you into them, it looks like.”

Liam glanced away shiftily. “Who said it was a guy?”

Harry scoffed. “I have spent too many years perfecting the use of non-gender specific pronouns not to notice your intentional and not at all subtle use of ‘they.’ And ‘this person’? Really? Give me some credit.”

Liam's shoulders slumped and he nodded, but he still didn't say anything else.

“So,” Harry pressed, “who is he?”

Liam mumbled something, avoiding Harry's eyes.

“Who?”

Liam sighed and raised his head to look at him. “Zayn, okay?”

“What?!” Liam tried to shush him, but Harry was just staring at him in astonishment. “Wait. Zayn. Our Zayn? Zayn Malik, Zayn?”

Liam’s face fell. “I thought you said I was attractive??”

“You are!” Harry shot back.

The two fell quiet, lost in their own thoughts, Liam with a miserable expression on his face and Harry still seemingly stunned.

“Not 'Zayn' attractive though,” Harry muttered after a moment.

“Hey!”

“I'm joking, I'm joking, you're just as sexy as Zayn,” Harry said between muffled giggles. “Jesus, give me a second to wrap my head around this.” He paused again. “I mean, I thought you guys didn't like each other all that much.”

Liam sighed, gazing up at him with a plaintive expression. “That's just it, we don't. But he keeps kissing me—”

“He kissed you?” Harry hissed loudly. “You didn't say—I think I need to sit down now.” He slid down onto the floor next to Liam. “Tell me.” He gave Liam a stern look. “From the beginning.”

So Liam told him everything: from the teasing and the almost goodnight kiss to the argument and the flirting, to the random first kiss in Niall's kitchen and the dancing.

And then Liam told him about the other times when he had come to visit—

Like when they went to the movies and Niall had gone off to buy more snacks and Harry and Louis were too busy having a popcorn fight (and hiding from the cinema attendant) to notice Zayn leaning over and pressing his lips against Liam's.

Or that time on the footie field where Harry fell and Liam went off to find a first aid kit while Louis cooed over Harry's scraped knee and Niall laughed. And Zayn cornered him by the loos and tugged at his hips and kissed him slowly, but only for a moment because the park manager interrupted, awkwardly holding out a box of bandages Liam had asked for.

“And I never see it coming and it's always so sudden I can't even react. I haven't even kissed him back really. He's so frustrating,” Liam growled. “And then he pretends like nothing even happened.”

Harry made a humming noise. “So that's why you've been clinging to me the last few times you've come to visit. I just thought you missed me,” he quipped. His expression changed to a more somber one. “Why didn't you tell me?”

It wasn't like him to keep things from Harry. They told each other everything. But for some reason whenever Liam had tried to tell him the words just wouldn't come out.

Liam shrugged helplessly. “I don't know. I’m sorry. I couldn't. I mean half the time I thought I was crazy because no one noticed or that Zayn was only joking around or something. I mean you know how he is. He's impossible to read. I think I was in denial.”

Harry gave him a sympathetic nod. “Do you want me to talk to him? Tell him to stop molesting you behind our backs?”

Liam let out a short, bitter sounding laugh. “I'm pretty sure he'd only take that as a suggestion to start kissing me in front of you. So thank you, but no.”

Harry nudged him with his shoulder. “Do you _want_ him to kiss you behind our backs?” he asked with a small smile.

Liam returned the smile, still looking a bit helpless. “I—” He sighed. “No. Maybe? I don't know.”

“Well then _maybe_ he should lay off until you do know what you want.”

Harry was right. Liam knew Harry was right. But Liam wasn't sure if he'd ever know what he wanted. And a part of him was afraid that if Zayn stopped he'd never figure it out. “Yeah, maybe.”

Harry’s mouth thinned. “Are you sure you don't want me to talk to him?”

Liam grinned. “Positive.” He was already feeling a little steadier.

“Are you going to be attached to my hip all night?”

“Definitely,” he replied, sounding just as confident.

Harry laughed under his breath and stood up. “Alright, sounds good to me.” He held out a hand for Liam.

Liam took it, rising from the floor.

“Wait.” Harry stopped as they were about to leave the kitchen, giving Liam a curious look. “Let me get this straight. Er, no pun intended. But you have a guy kiss you, for the first time, several times in fact, and the first thing you question is that you're 'not attractive enough' for him to want to make out with you?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Aren't you supposed to be freaking out about the fact that, oh I don't know, _he has a dick and you've only ever liked pussy?”_

Liam rolled his eyes at Harry's crassness.  “Of course I panicked a little at first. I'm still panicking about it. I don't know. I suppose you rubbed off on me.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, mock offended. “Hey, you can't catch gay.”

Liam wrinkled his nose. “I didn't mean it like that and you know it.” He shrugged. “I just meant, you never seemed to care. You never made it seem anything other than normal that you liked boys the same way you liked girls.”

Harry smiled softly. “That's partly your doing you know. You didn't make a big thing about it either. Do you remember? You hugged me and said 'that's cool' and told me I'd always be your best friend. And then you insisted I eat your cookie because you said I looked sad.”

Liam grinned at the memory. “Yeah and a minute later we went back to playing Batman and Robin. We were six.”

“And it meant everything to me.” Harry wrapped an arm around Liam's shoulder. “You were still the best best-friend ever back then too.” He pulled away, giving Liam a pat on the back. “It’ll be alright. You'll figure out the Zayn thing.”

“I hope you're right.”

They made their way back to Liam's bedroom.

“You guys were gone ages,” Louis whined as they walked in. He glanced at their empty hands in confusion.  “Where are the drinks?”

“You can drink at the party,” Harry said gruffly, throwing a look at Zayn.

Zayn raised his eyebrows in response, trying to look innocent and confused, but Harry didn't miss the way his eyes flickered over to Liam. Liam didn't miss the look either and he immediately stepped closer to Harry, almost hiding behind him.

Harry rolled his eyes, putting his arm back around Liam. “Come on, let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I'll try to post another chapter today hopefully.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds out something he probably already suspected and Zayn and Liam work out some of their communication issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder about the ziam consent note from before as it comes into play more explicitly this chapter, also there’s an involuntary coming out of sorts? I put specifics in the end notes.

Louis originally thought going to a party in Holmes Chapel was the best idea ever. And it had been, for awhile at least. Holmes Chapel parties weren't all that different from the ones in Haslington, but Louis got to meet a bunch of new people for once, which was great.

Even better, a good chunk of them knew Harry pretty well and Louis had the chance to try and pry out every little detail about “pre-Louis” Harry from them that he could. Between Louis' charisma and the alcohol it didn't take much work. But the problem with delving into people's pasts was that you might find out something you didn't want to know.

And for Louis that something had come in the form of Nick Grimshaw.

“Hey, have you seen Liam around?” Harry asked with a frown, scanning the crowded room.

Louis shrugged. “Nope, sorry.” Liam had been sticking pretty close to them the whole night, even though Louis knew for a fact he had plenty of other friends here. Louis wondered if Liam was getting jealous of him and Harry. He certainly hoped not. That could make things awkward.

“That's so weird,” Harry muttered. “I could have sworn he was behind me…”

“Harry!!!” a voice screamed. Suddenly someone (a very drunk someone) was launching themselves at Harry. They threw their arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

Harry grinned. “Nick.”

Nick pulled back slightly to rest his forehead against Harry's. “You are never allowed to leave again,” he said, Louis just barely hearing him over the noise of the party. Nick tilted his head and covered Harry's lips with his own, kissing him thoroughly. Harry seemed to return the kiss instinctively and after a moment they both pulled away.

“But”—Nick hooked his fingers through two of Harry's belt loops and tugged, pushing their hips together—“I’m thinking I know _exactly_ how you can make it up to me.”

Harry started to blush a deep red and he gave Louis a sheepish glance. Louis was still staring at the two of them, completely stunned.

“Um...” Harry licked his lips and Louis couldn't help but zero in on his slightly reddened mouth. 

Nick glanced over at Louis and let go of Harry, stepping back in surprise. He elbowed Harry in the ribs. “Harry! Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend!” he admonished. “Christ, you talk too slow for your own good.” He turned to Louis with a grin. “Sorry about that one, mate. No hard feelings though, yeah?”

Louis stared at him in a daze, not ready to form words yet.

Nick made a confused face at Harry, but Harry was too busy staring at Louis apprehensively. “Uh, Lou?”

Louis' face had paled a bit. His eyes snapped back to Harry. “You're gay?”

Harry winced.

“Shit,” Nick breathed, his eyes widening. He gave Harry an apologetic look. “Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't—”

Harry waved him off, trying to smile, but he just looked kind of nauseous. “No. It's fine really. Don't—it's fine.”

Nick nodded and backed away slowly. “Well, I'm going to...” He gestured vaguely behind him. He turned to leave, mouthing another “sorry” to Harry before escaping into the crowd.

Harry shifted his attention back to Louis, who was still focused rather intently on his lips. “Louis?”

Louis blinked. “You're gay?” he repeated, calmer this time.

Harry shrugged and shoved his fingers into his jeans' pockets. He lifted his gaze to meet Louis', giving him a resolute stare. “Would it be a problem if I was?”

_Yes_.

“No. No, of course not. I got caught by surprise that's all.”

Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. “Good.” He smiled again and it seemed more genuine this time. “I'm not though. Gay, I mean. I mean I do like guys,” he continued in a hurry, “but I like girls too. You know, the whole, I'm just attracted to people thing.”

Louis nodded mutely. His eyes kept flickering away from Harry's like he couldn't hold his gaze.

Harry peered at him. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah. 'Course. Just warn me if anyone else is going to start throwing themself at you lips first.” He laughed, but it sounded wrong, not like him at all.

Harry was beginning to frown. “Louis—”

“Hey, where's the loo around here?” Louis broke in. “Sorry, but you know, when you gotta go, you gotta go,” he said in a cheerful voice. _When you gotta go, you gotta go?_ _Way to be obvious, Lou._

“Um, one is that way,” Harry said slowly, pointing down the hall, “but there's probably a massive queue. There's another in the basement. It'll probably be free.”

Louis flashed him a grin, already walking away. “Thanks! Be back in a sec.”

He fled to the basement. Luckily Harry was right and the loo was empty. Louis ducked inside, locking the door before sitting down on the toilet and burying his face in his hands. He tried to will his heart to stop pounding.

_Why am I freaking out?_

It wasn't like Louis had a problem with homosexuality. He'd been friends with Zayn for ages and he already knew he was pretty indiscriminate as far as gender went. So why should Harry be any different?

Louis groaned, already knowing the answer. _Because Harry is always different._

He couldn't get the image of Harry kissing that guy out of his mind. It was like it was burned into his retinas. It kept playing over and over and it was messing with his emotions.

The jealously he could recognize. And that he could deal with. Louis knew he was a fairly possessive person, and someone he didn't know practically mauling one of his best friends right in front of him was absolutely grounds for some resentment. But otherwise everything was a jumbled mess. There was probably fear and a bit of desire and a whole lot of uncertainty, none of which Louis knew what to make of.

But apparently he really needed to figure it out because he'd definitely just run out on said best friend like a complete homophobic asshole and Harry was probably feeling confused and hurt and _fuck_ , Louis was a terrible friend.

All Louis knew was that he couldn't stop picturing Nick kissing Harry over and over, but then it was also Louis kissing Harry and a couple times it had even morphed into Harry pushing Louis up against a wall and—

Louis stood abruptly and shook his head as if that would get rid of his thoughts. He went over to the sink to splash some cold water on his cheeks and then dried his face on the hand towel. He stared at himself in the mirror, taking deep breaths and trying to sort himself out.

Harry had made him feel off balance from the first time they’d locked eyes and Louis was beginning to think he knew why.

 

+

 

Liam was doing an excellent job of avoiding him and it was definitely starting to get a little frustrating. Besides a few stolen kisses, Zayn hadn't had a real chance to get Liam on his own again since the last party. And that had been _weeks_ ago.

So when Harry invited them to Holmes Chapel (or rather Louis invited himself and subsequently got them invited) Zayn knew it was the perfect opportunity.

Zayn scowled at Liam over the top of his cup, watching him laugh with Harry and some others a few feet away.

But so far Liam hadn’t strayed more than a few inches from Harry. And Harry hadn't let on that he found it weird, which was added evidence to Zayn's theory that Liam had finally broken down and told him.

Perhaps Zayn had gone too far with the surprise thing. He just hadn’t wanted Liam to have time to make up an excuse and back out or something.

But when Zayn showed up at his house, Liam definitely seemed to have some sort of internal meltdown and from the look Harry had given him after they went to the kitchen for “drinks” Zayn was pretty sure the cat was out of the bag.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that yet. On the one hand, he kind of wished it'd stayed between the two of them until they had a chance to work out whatever this was. On the other hand, maybe telling Harry would let Liam relax a little now that he didn't feel alone or whatever.

Nonetheless, Zayn refused to leave this party without getting some one on one time with Liam Payne.

“Give it up, mate.”

Zayn glanced up, startled as a guy he didn't recognize sat down beside him on the arm of the sofa. Zayn raised a questioning eyebrow.

The stranger nodded his head toward where Zayn had been staring. “Liam Payne is as straight as an arrow. Don't bother.” He let out a sad sigh, giving Liam a once over. “Believe me,” he said wistfully. 

Zayn was somewhat taken aback as he felt a flare of jealousy at the other boy's words. _Well that won't do._ Zayn didn't do jealous. He and Liam were just having fun. Or they would be, if Zayn had anything to say about it.

“Hmm, I don't know about that,” Zayn replied mysteriously. A small smirk formed on his face. “I'd say Liam and I are coming to an understanding.”

The other lad's eyes widened slightly. “No,” he gasped. His gaze flitted from Zayn to Liam and back again.  “Seriously? Nice one.” He shook his head in disappointment, looking Zayn over with a wry smirk. “It's always the pretty ones, innit?”

Zayn shrugged, feeling a bit satisfied with himself. “He's coming around. I just need to _talk_ him. Every time I see him our friends are always there. I never get a chance.” Zayn didn't know why he was pouring his heart out to this near stranger, but Liam had been so frustrating lately and he couldn't help but vent a little.

“You don't go to Holmes Chapel do you? I would've definitely remembered and I know I haven't seen you around. I'm Aiden.” He stuck his hand out to Zayn, who shook it in return.

“Zayn. And no, I'm here because I'm friends with Harry.”

Aiden's eyes lit up in happy surprise. “Oh I love Harry, we've known each other ages. So you're a Haslington lad, then?”

Zayn nodded, his gaze drifting back to Liam unconsciously.

Aiden peered at him a moment before appearing to come to a decision. “Look, I'm a bit tipsy. But you seem alright and you're friends with Harry, so I'll tell you what”—he pulled out some keys, struggling to get one off the loop—“if you do get a chance to talk to Liam, you can use one of the rooms. Upstairs, second door on your left.”

“Uh, thanks,” Zayn said, sounding dumbfounded. He took the key and pocketed it, a plan already forming in his mind.

Aiden patted him on the shoulder and stood up. “Good luck, Zayn. If you succeed you'll go down as legendary in my books.” He started walking away. “But don't get any come on the sheets!” he called over his shoulder.

Zayn smirked and his gaze moved back across the room to Liam.

_I make no promises, Aiden._

Quickly, Zayn made his way upstairs and let himself into the bedroom. He closed the door and pulled out his mobile, shooting a quick text to Louis—something inane and vague about fantastic shots upstairs and how they should come up and get some. Zayn opened the door a crack, peering out until he saw Louis, Harry, and Liam walking past to one of the other rooms crowded with people. Zayn leaned against the doorway. Now he would wait.

It wasn't until then that the absolute absurdity of what he was doing fully hit him. Placing a trap and hiding in the dark so he could kidnap the object of his affections? This was not Zayn's style at all.

He sighed inwardly. By the expression on Liam's face the first time they kissed, Zayn was pretty sure he’d never seriously entertained the thought of being with another guy. On the one hand, he seemed shocked, but not unreceptive. On the other hand, it seemed like he'd been stuck in that stage ever since.

Zayn fidgeted in his spot, but didn't move. So far everything between himself and Liam had been so muddled and backwards. Zayn was determined to get it sorted tonight. Either Liam wanted this or he didn't, but either way he needed to get Liam out of his system.

Zayn briefly wondered when he'd become so concerned with Liam Payne.

One certainly wouldn't have guessed from their first meeting, which admittedly was pretty awful. Zayn knew he'd been acting like a bit of a dick that night. He’d already been in a bad mood and the alcohol hadn’t helped (usually he would stand there and _silently_ judge, not spew out his every thought).

He just didn't like meeting new people, okay? It made him uncomfortable and snappish so he had a couple of shots beforehand to calm his nerves. To make things even worse, not only did he have to meet Harry Styles, but his rando friend as well. So yeah, he hadn't exactly reacted well, but so what?

Zayn had written Liam off as someone he'd probably never see again. He seemed lame and kind of boring _(really, who actually wants to live in Holmes Chapel?)_ and way too straightlaced for Zayn’s tastes, which were more along the lines of taking relish in bending the rules and having a good time.

But then Zayn had to go and literally fall into Liam’s lap, and Liam had actually tried to help him even though Zayn had been a complete arsehole earlier (and then forgot who he was entirely). The whole thing made Liam seem rather sweet and personally Zayn thought being sweet was overrated... but he had to admit it was sort of nice being taken care of.

And it wasn’t like Zayn hadn't noticed Liam was hot. He had eyes, after all. But that didn't override the fact of “sweet” and “boring” and therefore not being Zayn's type _at all_ , so he ignored it. It was harder to keep ignoring it when Liam showed his puppy persona actually had some bite with calling Zayn's bluff that night.

Zayn should've known he was fucked when he fell asleep a tad bereft because Liam didn't actually kiss him.

Nevertheless, he didn’t catch on and when Liam accused him of flirting his first reaction was that the idea was absurd, until he realized a moment later that oh yeah, he kind of was. Which was _weird_. Because Liam was everything Zayn wasn't. The vices thing aside, Liam was honest and open about everything, while Zayn intentionally closed himself off. Liam was so earnest. It was sort of maddening.

Zayn had always been a firm believer in only showing people what you wanted them to see. Being open and honest all the time was a nice thought, but it was naïve and dangerous. People could (and would) always find ways to use your weaknesses against you. Zayn's entire persona was perfectly crafted and he liked it that way. It let people feel like they knew him without actually knowing him. It also meant that he didn't get to have a ton of close friendships, but he had Louis and Niall and that was plenty for him.

Zayn should've never given Liam so much as a second thought. Liam was soft where Zayn was hard; he was an open book where people complained Zayn was unreadable. Even so... Zayn really liked it when Liam blushed and got all flustered and it made Zayn's heart beat a little faster and his lips twitch, wanting to smile. Liam was too cuddly and adorable for Zayn, because Zayn didn't do “adorable”, the same way he didn't bother with “sweet”, but apparently he was making a lot of exceptions when it came to Liam Payne.

To be honest he didn't have a clue what he was doing.

But he was curious and Liam was hot and Zayn really kind of wanted to stop thinking about him, so when they were in Niall's kitchen and he saw that he wasn't the only feeling some sexual tension, he went for it.

And he wouldn’t say there were fireworks exactly, but it'd definitely left him wanting more (which he got a taste of at the movies and the park, but then Liam had become a champ at avoiding him and so here he was).

Zayn tensed, seeing Louis coming down the hall. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he passed, then Harry, and then, just as Liam was about to go by, Zayn pulled the door open, snagged him by the arm and yanked him into the room. Liam made a squawking noise and stumbled. Zayn let him go and leaned back against the door, locking it.

Liam gulped, staring at the doorknob. Zayn shifted his body in front of it, forcing Liam to look up at him.

“Zayn.”

Zayn gave him a tight smile. “Liam.” He took a step toward him and Liam took one back. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you've been avoiding me.”

“No I haven't,” Liam said quickly.

Zayn's eyes narrowed.”What happened to always being truthful, Liam?”

Liam's eyes lowered with guilt for a moment before he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He stared at Zayn with determination. “What do you want from me, Malik?”

Zayn smirked. “Oh,” he teased, his voice deepening with a hint of suggestiveness, “are you getting _stern_ with me, Liam?”

Liam's gaze hardened and he stepped towards Zayn, invading his personal space. “Is that what you want?” he snapped.

Zayn looked up at him, inching his face just that much closer to Liam's. “Maybe,” he said in a soft tone.

Liam's eyes widened slightly at Zayn's honesty. He took a hesitant step back, his previous bravado fading. “What?”

Zayn took another step toward him. “I have been wondering about it you know. What makes you tick?'“ He kept walking forward as Liam backed up, deftly avoiding the bed. “What makes Liam Payne snap?”

Liam stopped when the backs of his knees hit something. He glanced behind him. They were standing in front of a large bay window. Liam sucked in a breath as Zayn entered his personal space again, but didn't sit down.

“You know what I think?” Zayn continued in a low voice. “I think you like to be in control. The lectures, the no drinking, the exercise—it's all about your need to be in control of everything. And I think you can't stand that you can't figure me out.”

Liam let out a disbelieving huff. “If anyone has control issues it's _you_. How you have this whole rebel without a cause thing going on. How you only let people see what you want them to see.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes, attempting to hide his surprise. Apparently Liam paid more attention than Zayn gave him credit for.

“Maybe that's true,” Zayn said, his tone light. “Might make things difficult though, I suppose—the both of us needing to be in control.” Zayn slid a hand up Liam's arm. “How ever is this going to work?” His hand came to a stop on Liam's shoulder and Liam sank down onto the window seat without another thought.

"What's _this?”_ Liam asked, his voice soft.

Zayn smirked, climbing onto the seat as well and straddling Liam's thighs.

Liam's breath hitched. “Shit,” he whispered, staring down with wide eyes at where Zayn's legs were sliding against his.

Zayn's grin widened. "Oh I think you know exactly what this is.” He ducked his head and pressed a soft kiss beneath Liam's jawline. He could feel Liam’s pulse racing under his lips.

Liam, however, started to pull back, shaking his head.

Zayn drew away with a sigh.

“No, actually I don't know what this is.” Liam sounded worried. “Or why you're acting like this. Why you’ve been”—he swallowed—“you know, kissing me and stuff,” he finished in a mumble.

“Because I want to,” Zayn said simply.

“But why?”

Zayn made a half-hearted shrug. “Dunno. Don't think all that hard about it really.”

Liam looked at him in astonishment and a bit of horror.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Do you always have to have a list of reasons for everything?” He gave Liam a brief kiss. “Can we please get back to more interesting things?” He leaned in again, this time kissing him with more intensity.

“Stop,” Liam said softly as Zayn broke away for a moment.

Zayn groaned and let his head fall onto Liam's shoulder. Clearly he hadn't given Liam's stubbornness enough credit either. “Why?”

“Because—” Liam's breath hitched as Zayn turned his face into Liam's neck, but Zayn kept his lips to himself, just resting there. “Because I don't kiss guys.”

Zayn laughed and leaned back to look Liam in the eye, giving him a skeptical expression. “Uh, you seemed to be doing pretty good job of it just now. And a couple weeks ago. And the time before that—”

“I never kissed you back!”

Zayn stared at him blankly. The two of them sat like for a moment, in silence except for the muted thumping of the music coming from downstairs.

_Technically that's true._

“You're right,” Zayn said finally.

Liam's shoulders fell in surprise. Maybe he thought Zayn was letting it all go, just like that.

_Not quite yet._

“So kiss me.”

Liam tensed and pulled away, giving him a questioning look.

Zayn stared back, his face completely serious. In truth this whole thing was beginning to feel a little too intimate for his liking. But he'd come this far and he wasn't turning back now. He was pretty sure Liam was into him. Like at least 90% sure. Maybe 80%.

_Shit._

Zayn scratched the back of his neck. He'd never considered himself someone that let their ego get carried away but— "You know you don't have to though. I thought—" Zayn sighed. "You don't have to, if you don't..." He trailed off. Now this was awkward. He hated awkward.

"I know."

Zayn waited for something else, but it seemed that was all that Liam had to say. A string of expletives ran through Zayn's mind. What the hell had he been thinking? Something cold and ugly was forming in the pit of his stomach and he started to rise from Liam's lap. He had to get out of here.

"Wait." Liam's hands clamped down on his thighs, the heat from his palms seeping through Zayn's jeans. "Just, wait."

Zayn slowly lowered himself back down.

Liam's hands slid off of him and he lowered his eyes, caught in indecision.

Zayn cupped his chin, making Liam meet his gaze. “It's okay to _want_ to kiss me, too.” His voice maintained a quiet, gentle tone. He didn't smirk or try to sound suggestive. He just said it like a simple statement... and officially switched this moment from “kinda intimate” to “definitely intimate”.

“I know that too.”

Zayn licked his lips, waiting. Their faces drifted closer unconsciously until Zayn was resting his forehead against Liam's, their breath intermingling. "So kiss me,” he repeated, his voice barely audible.

All Zayn wanted to do was close that tiny bit of distance between their lips, but Liam needed to come to him this time. He would never stop running away if he never consciously made the decision to stay in the first place.

Zayn realized that for the first time in a long time he actually felt vulnerable. _What if he refuses? What if he actually rejects me?_ A well of panic started to rise in him, but before he could make the decision to pull away again, Liam was moving forward, tentatively pressing their lips together.

Relief rushed through him as Liam continued to press short kisses against his mouth. He kept still and let Liam take the lead until he started to seem more confident. Liam pulled away for a moment, gazing up at Zayn with a hint of awe in his eyes.

Zayn couldn't help but smile at him. Liam grinned back. He finally appeared relaxed instead of ready to bolt at any second.

Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam's neck and leaned forward again. This time however, Liam met him halfway, their lips sliding together in a slow kiss. Zayn sighed into his mouth and buried one of his hands in Liam's hair. This was already a thousand times better than any of the times before.

“So you don't kiss guys, huh?” Zayn murmured, pulling away slightly.

“Oh shut up.” Liam reached up and pulled Zayn back down. Their lips didn't so much come together this time as crash together. There was nothing gentle about it.

Zayn grinned against Liam's mouth before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Liam let out a soft moan as Zayn shifted his weight, readjusting his position in Liam's lap.

Liam clutched Zayn's hips tighter, tugging him closer. Except he must've tugged a little too hard because the movement had them both overbalancing and Liam hitting the window behind them with dull bang.

“Ow.”

Zayn's palms were pressed against the glass on either side of Liam's head. They looked at each other for a moment before the both of them burst into quiet laughter.

Zayn slid off Liam's lap, but stuck close, settling into the spot next to him. “Let me see,” he said and craned his neck to see the back of Liam’s head. Zayn peered at the spot where Liam had hit his head and brushed his fingers against it. “It’s fine, you big baby.” He turned back to Liam and the look the other boy was giving him made his breath catch in his throat.

Liam darted forward to press a soft kiss against Zayn's slightly parted mouth. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” he mumbled.

Zayn shrugged and pulled his legs up, tucking them underneath himself. He licked his lips. “Eh, I knew you'd come around.”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “Oh did you?”

Zayn tugged at a lock of Liam's hair, wrapping it around his finger. “Mhmm.”

“You were very persistent.” Liam's hand was on Zayn's thigh, just resting there, fingers spread.

“I prefer confident.”

“Yeah, you've got plenty of that too.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you think it's sexy.”

“Well”—Liam fumbled for a comeback—“you think I'm sexy.”

Zayn blinked and Liam scrunched his eyes closed, looking like he wanted to stuff his words right back into his mouth. His cheeks had already been slightly flushed and now they were steadily turning even redder.

It was _adorable._

_I can't believe I'm doing this either, Liam._

Zayn let out a huff of laughter and swung his leg over Liam's lap, straddling him again. Cupping Liam's warm cheeks between his hands, Zayn smoothed his thumbs over Liam's eyes until they fluttered open.

Zayn smirked. “Hell yeah I do.” He drew Liam into another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Come on,” Zayn whispered. He gently pushed Liam back until he was leaning against the window again. “Aiden said not to get any come on the sheets, but he didn't say anything about these seat cushions.”

Liam's eyes widened. "Wait, wha—"

Zayn shook his head and laughed. "One step at a time," he murmured, leaning down to cover Liam's mouth with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! hope you liked it :) feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr ](http://www.beckonedbyhopes.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> (probably edging into coercion territory if you trap the object of your affections in a room with you and kiss them until they wear down. specifically Zayn does this to Liam, but it is sort of addressed in that Zayn stops because he wants Liam to come to him. i’m hoping it came off as cute instead of creepy haha, but either way it needed a warning.
> 
> the “involuntary coming out of sorts” is when Harry gets kissed by a male friend/hook up in front of Louis, causing Harry to have to admit that he isn’t straight.)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay!
> 
> also there seems to have been a little confusion, so I just want to reiterate that both harry/louis and liam/zayn are main pairings. first was larry, then ziam, and now we should be alternating every chapter or so :)

Harry flopped down onto the sofa beside him. “I think something is off with Louis.”

Niall tore his eyes away from the group of girls across the room, two of whom might've been eyeing him for the past few minutes. “Something is always off with Louis,” he joked.

Harry sighed, staring out into the crowd. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Niall gave the girls one last mournful glance. It appeared this was going to be a serious conversation. _The things I do for friendship_.

He turned his full attention to Harry. “What's up?”

Harry bit his bottom lip, his hands twisting in his lap nervously. “Louis kind of found out…” He hesitated.

Niall frowned. “Yeah?”

Harry took a deep breath and shifted his body to face Niall head on, staring at him anxiously. “He found out that I don't just like girls. That I'm into guys as well.”

Niall nodded. “Okay.”

Harry kept staring. “Oh—okay?”

Niall nodded again and took a gulp of his beer while he waited for Harry to continue. _Why is he looking at me like that?_

Then Niall remembered that technically he wasn't supposed to already know that Harry liked guys (because the poor thing couldn't tell that his heart eyes to Louis were glaringly obvious to Niall).

“Er"—he wracked his brain for something supportive to say—“that's great?” Harry stared at him even more strangely. “I mean...” Niall sighed. “It's all cool with me mate, nothing wrong with that.”

Harry finally relaxed a bit, seeming relieved.

“Did you think I'd have a problem with it or something?”

“Well, no not really. But then again I didn't think Louis would either and…” Harry trailed off ominously.

Niall frowned again, straightening up. _That doesn't sound like Louis at all._ “Wait, what happened?”

“Well we were talking—trying to find Liam actually—and one of my friends, Nick, came up and said hi, er, with his lips.”

Niall raised his eyebrows. “Oh.” ~~~~

“We're only good friends, but I was sort of hooking up with him this summer,” Harry continued. “And then Nick is all, 'Oh is this your boyfriend?' and Louis just kept saying 'You're gay?' and then Nick ran away, and Louis _said_ he was fine with it"—Harry sounded a little hysterical—"except then he ran away too with some bullshit excuse about needing the loo. So yeah, I was kind of worried, but when he got back everything seemed fine. Normal.”

He let out a miserable groan. “For awhile anyway. But he's all, I don't know, hot and cold now. Like one second we're okay and the next he's disappearing again or acting like he's—” Harry swallowed, his eyes looking suspiciously shiny.

Niall's eyes widened in alarm and he scooted closer to him. _Shit, is he crying? Lou, what have you gone and done now?_

“—like he's afraid to touch me.” Harry scoffed, running a tired hand over his face. He took another deep breath and glanced at Niall with a sad expression. “I didn't expect this from him. I didn't expect him to be one of those people who think I'm going to jump them all of a sudden just because I like guys.”

_Louis is probably afraid he's going to be the one to jump you actually._

Niall put a comforting arm around Harry, who leaned into him gratefully. “I'm sure that's not what he's thinking.”

Harry's eyebrows drew together. “Then what else?” His voice had an edge of desperation.

Niall wanted to groan in frustration. _He's thinking now that he knows you like guys, he can't ignore those bedroom eyes you give him all the time. He's probably freaking out because he's jealous someone else was kissing you instead of him. He's afraid to be around you because he's spent the past 16 years thinking he wanted to touch girls, but now all he can think about is touching you._

But Niall couldn't tell Harry any of this. Louis was still oblivious for all Niall knew, not to mention scared and in denial and Harry didn't need to get his hopes up in case Niall was wrong. Or in case Louis never came around. Those two needed to work this out on their own terms.

“Maybe he's just adjusting? I'm sure it's not what you think.” Niall's words sounded weak even to his own ears, but Harry relaxed some anyway.

_Poor lad is so desperate he'll take any sort of reassurance._

“Besides, it's not like Louis is new to the whole friends who like other guys thing. I mean we've been mates for ages with Za—” Niall froze, his expression taking on a particular ‘deer in headlights’ quality. “Er, I mean..."

Zayn didn't exactly hide the fact that he swung both ways, but he was still a rather private person. Niall probably should've asked before almost blurting that out. He was pretty sure Zayn wouldn't care if he told Harry, but still. Niall had a bad habit of speaking before he was fully done thinking.

Harry chuckled lightly, taking pity on him. “If you're talking about Zayn, I'm already very aware that he likes to go around making out with guys.”

Niall exhaled. “Oh good, I—wait. How?” He inhaled sharply. “You two haven't—”

Harry made a small snort, stifling his laughter. “No. God no. Zayn is pretty, but I'm definitely not going there.”

“Oh.” Niall took a calming drink from his beer. For a moment there he thought he'd been _wrong_ of all things. “Then how?”

“Unlike you, I can keep my mouth shut,” Harry teased. “But let's just say it was unexpectedly brought to my attention very recently.”

Niall's eyes narrowed, but he let it go for the moment.

(He ended up not having to let it go for long though, considering when they were about to leave Liam and Zayn appeared together, Zayn's arm around Liam's waist and the both of them looking thoroughly debauched. Niall was still a little irked he hadn't seen that one coming. But really? Zayn and Liam?).

“Fine, keep your secrets. Anyway, I’m sure things will be fine come Monday.”

Harry gave him a small hopeful smile. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

_Well. Maybe._

Actually Niall had a bad feeling about the whole thing and that rarely boded well. But he certainly wasn't going to tell that to Harry.

Niall glanced away and was startled to spot Louis across the room. He was looking between Niall and Harry, his brow furrowed. Niall barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't know how Louis could be so obvious and yet still so oblivious at the same time.

Niall tightened his grip around Harry's shoulders and raised his eyebrows. Louis blinked, the expression disappearing and his normal, cheery one returning.

“Actually here he is now,” Niall muttered. He watched with a sinking feeling in his stomach as Harry's entire face lit up at the sight of Louis approaching. _I hope they work this out soon. For both of their sakes._

“Hazza!” Louis threw himself onto the sofa, wriggling into the nonexistent space between them—and if he elbowed Niall in the side just a little too hard to pass as friendly, well, Niall wasn't saying anything.

+

The rest of the party ended up going okay, but Monday it became clear that Niall's assurances to Harry were wrong. Everything was most definitely not fine.

To others it might've seemed like everything was normal, but all three of them started to notice little differences. Like the way Louis never seemed to be around anymore between classes. Or how he kept canceling their plans after school. And how his excuses, if he gave one at all, were always vague or weird.

But the worst had to be the way he was with Harry. Sometimes they were still all over each other like before, but other times Louis would abruptly lean away and go into these cold, closed off moods. And there had been a few instances where Harry would reach for him—an arm around the shoulder, a hand on his back—and Louis would actually flinch away like he'd been burned. The look of pure hurt on Harry's face in those moments especially had Niall glaring daggers at him.

But whenever they tried to talk to him about it Louis insisted everything was fine. Instead of admitting that something was wrong, or that he needed more time or _anything_ at all, he just brushed them off like they were being crazy.

Harry wasn't taking it too well. Niall was used to seeing him all smiles and dimples, but nowadays he always seemed frustrated or sad or hurt. Even his curls were droopy.

For a friendship that'd seemed completely effortless before, it was horrible to see it so awkward and strained now.

And by Thursday Harry had snapped.

“Hey,” Louis said casually, striding up to them before school began. Niall and Zayn murmured their hellos, but Harry slammed his locker shut.

“Where were you?” His voice was low. Harry was avoiding Louis' eyes, but Niall could tell from the tense set of his shoulders that he was furious.

Louis frowned. “What? When are you talking about?”

Harry's eyes snapped to Louis. “Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm and steady.  “We were all supposed to meet after school. Niall’s house? Remember?”

“Oh.” Louis leaned against the lockers. He crossed his ankles nonchalantly. “Sorry. I must've forgotten. Anyway I told you I might be busy.”

Harry shook his head. “You're being a coward.”

Niall sensed the beginnings of a serious argument and his grip around his books tightened. He glanced at Zayn, who was still staring at Louis and Harry, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. But he did lean a little closer to Niall and Niall pressed back against him gratefully.

He hated it when his friends fought. It wasn't like they got along 100% of the time, but there was mild sniping and then there was... this.

Louis folded his arms. “And what exactly am I so afraid of?”

“You're avoiding me.”

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes. “Stop being so paranoid, Haz.”

“Don't”—Harry's voice had risen and he took a breath to calm himself—“call me that. And stop telling me I’m making stuff up because I'm not.”

Louis shrugged, avoiding Harry's gaze. “Well I don't know what you want me to tell you.”

Harry stared at him, his face stony. The silence lasted for a few seconds before Harry angrily folded his arms as well. “Fine,” he snarled. “You know what? I'm done.”

Louis blanched and his indifferent demeanor dropped for a second. “What—”

But Harry was on a roll, cutting him off. “I didn't expect this from you. I guess I was a big enough of an idiot that I actually thought all this time I'd been getting to know the _real_ you. That you weren't the obnoxious dick I thought you were in the beginning. But I guess I was right the first time, yeah?”

He gave Louis a condescending once over. “Now I'm just wishing I hadn't wasted my time.” Niall saw Louis' face turn blank, his expression shuttered.

“In fact,” Harry continued. He looked away to the rest of the hall, raising his voice. “Since it's apparently _so_ important, I think everybody should know that I'm not straight.”

Niall's stomach dropped. _He's gone completely mental._

“Nope! I like guys too! So just in case any of my so-called _friends_ want to start treating me differently because of this”—Harry threw a vicious glare at Louis—“please save us both the time and stop talking to me now.”

Louis reached out to touch Harry's arm, but Harry jerked away.

“Don't touch me. You might catch something right?”

Louis pulled a face. “Harry come on, you know I don't think that.”

“Do I?” He shook his head. “I'm done, Louis. I'm tired of this.” His voice was lower now, sadder. “I don't want to do this anymore.” Harry's eyes dropped away from Louis'. Then he turned around and left, just like that.

The three remaining boys were speechless for a moment before Zayn rounded on Louis, his face furious.

“Nice one, Lou,” he sneered. “No really, fucking fantastic job this time.” Zayn turned and ran off to catch up with Harry.

“What,” Louis said. His voice was empty of emotion. “Aren't you going to yell at me too?”

Niall opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Sure he was mad at him, but after all that Niall couldn't find the heart to berate him as well. Louis was probably beating himself up enough already.

Louis looked up at Niall and he seemed so shattered. He walked away without another word.

Niall was left alone, staring blindly down the hall and wondering why suddenly everything seemed like it was crumbling. He tried to console himself with the fact that it couldn't get any worse than this. Now all they had to do was focus on getting Harry and Louis to make up.

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the last time Niall was wrong that day.

 

+

 

Harry spent the rest of his morning in a daze.

_I can’t believe I actually told Louis I didn't want to be friends anymore._

Groaning softly, he ran a hand over his face, not paying attention to his class at all.

_This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to give him some time and space. It’s barely been a week. Just because he didn’t react the way I expected, didn’t mean I had to go blow up at him._

But then this morning Harry got to school after _another_ sleepless night because Louis had blown him off _again_ and when he saw Louis' stupid smug face he lost it. He’d been so angry. And hurt.

Even so, Harry knew it wasn't only his anger that’d pushed him over the edge. He'd also been afraid.

Afraid because a little part of himself kept worrying that Louis had somehow found out about his crush. What if Louis knew and that was why he was acting this way? What if he was only trying to figure out how to let Harry down gently?

_What if he's disgusted with me?_

Harry wasn't sure if he could handle that. And the thought kept gnawing away at him, setting his nerves on edge until he just told Louis off.

Harry had a sort of hollow, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Rationally he knew he shouldn't be affected so much—he'd barely known Louis three months—but he still sensed an air of complete devastation coming over him.

At lunch Harry saw Niall and Zayn whispering furiously to each other, glancing between Louis, who was at their usual table, and Harry, who was sitting by himself a few tables over. Soon Zayn came over to him while Niall went to be with Louis.

Zayn said that he wanted to sit with Harry since Niall got to see him in class, plus he wasn't feeling exactly friendly towards Louis at the moment. Apparently Niall was going to spend the lunch hour trying to talk some sense into him.

Lunch basically passed in silence, which suited Harry fine. Normally he liked Niall's endless exuberance and his efforts to comfort Harry were nice, but Harry didn't really want to hear it today. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. He didn't want to deal with it yet.

All he wanted to do was make it through the day, curl up under his bedcovers and forget this whole thing ever happened.

Zayn seemed to understand this and Harry was grateful for it.

It was the same this morning when Zayn had come after him. Harry had been surprised to be honest. He and Zayn were friends, but they weren't as close as Harry was to Louis or Niall. Zayn took more time to open up. Nevertheless, there Zayn was with an actual hug and a murmur of “Louis can be a dick sometimes.”

Harry realized that even though neither of them made a huge deal over their sexualities, they both knew what it was like dealing with being bisexual in an overwhelmingly straight environment.

“Harry. Harry?”

Harry's head shot up to see Ms. Kaur calling him from the front of the class.

She raised her eyebrows. “You can go.”

He glanced around. The rest of the room was empty.

“But Headmaster Cowell wants to see you in his office before your next class.”

Harry paused as he gathered his books. “Okay.” He scooped up the rest of his belongings and moved toward the door.

Ms. Kaur opened her mouth as he passed as if she wanted to say something, but shut it again, simply holding the door open for him.

Harry nodded to her and made his way to the Headmaster's office. Under normal circumstances he would've been worried, but right now he couldn't seem to muster up enough energy to care.

He entered the front office and Mrs. Malone waved him straight in. Harry shut the door behind him, slumping down into one of the now familiar armchairs. At least the Headmaster didn't seem upset, though he always looked sort of stern so Harry couldn't tell for sure.

“I heard there was another incident between you and Mr. Tomlinson this morning. I hope this will not become a pattern, Mr. Styles.”

“No sir,” Harry mumbled, his eyes lowered.

“More importantly however, it was brought to my attention that today you publicly came out here at Haslington?”

Harry looked up at the Headmaster sharply, his lips tightening into a firm line. “I don't see how that's any of the school's business,” he ground out.

Harry hadn't exactly been thinking clearly when he made his little announcement this morning and there'd already been a few whispers following him around. But he didn't regret it. He'd meant it—he'd rather have everybody know now and weed out the assholes. What happened with Louis... it'd hurt. Harry didn't want it to happen with anyone else.

Headmaster Cowell nodded calmly. “It's not. But we do have a very strict no tolerance policy for bullying and that includes harassment due to sexual orientation.” He leaned forward. “Mr. Styles—Harry, if Mr. Tomlinson is giving you any sort trouble I want you to feel comfortable letting me know.”

Harry let out a short burst of air, shaking his head. “Louis isn't bullying me, Headmaster. He's being— _difficult_. But no bullying, I promise.” He tried to give him a small reassuring smile, but probably just ended up looking a little pained.

Headmaster Cowell stared at him for a few seconds, obviously trying to work out if he was telling the truth. Finally he nodded. “Well if anyone else gives you trouble of any sort, you can always come to me, the guidance counselor, or any of your teachers.”

Harry nodded, just ready to leave already.

“Also I'd noticed, despite your somewhat rocky beginning, you and Mr. Tomlinson had become quite the pair of good friends. I'd hate to see such a friendship dissolve. If you and Louis need any help, I want to remind you that we do offer peer counseling.” He took out a brochure and slid it across to him.

Harry shook his head. “No thank you,” he replied as politely as he could manage. “We're not actually a married couple,” he added under his breath.

Headmaster Cowell gave him a wry smile. “That may be, but even the strongest of friendships can need a little help going through some situations.”

“I've only known him three months.”

Headmaster Cowell nodded, a knowing look in his eye. “Alright, well you can go then.”

Harry stood to leave.

The headmaster waved the brochure at him before he could escape. “Take the brochure, Harry.” Harry took it reluctantly. “I hope you and Louis work this out,” Headmaster Cowell said in a benign tone.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered in response and exited the room.

Harry thought he was going to get away scot free for the rest of the day. Niall had toned down the comforting, he hadn't seen Louis at all, and now his last class was finally over and he could go home.

Unfortunately, the fates were not in his favor that day.

Harry was saying his goodbyes to Zayn when he practically felt Louis' presence behind him.

“Harry.”

Harry sighed and turned around. “Louis.” He stared at Louis in resignation. Niall was standing next to him, shifting anxiously.

“I, uh”—Louis tried to find the words—“wanted to talk to you?”

“You don't sound too sure about that one,” Harry said in a mild voice. He saw Louis' jaw clench.

“Don't make this difficult, Harry.” He sounded weary.

Harry's eyes narrowed. “Oh no, I wouldn't want to make this _difficult_ for you, Louis,” he countered, the words dripping like acid from his lips.

Louis didn't say anything.

“Well?” Harry prodded. Talking to Louis right now was the last thing he wanted to do.

Niall looked between the two of them before elbowing Louis roughly in the ribs. Louis shot a glare at Niall and turned his attention back to Harry.

“Harry, I—” Louis bit back a sigh. “I'm not blind you know,” he said harshly.

The three of them stared at him in stunned silence. Even Louis looked a little surprised at himself.

Harry's brain ground to a stop, refusing to think about what Louis could mean. “What?” he asked. His own voice sounded foreign to him.

“Lou...” Niall said in a low voice, his tone warning.

Louis' face lost its stunned expression and hardened. “No,” he snapped. “Why do I always have to be the one to apologize?”

Harry’s breath picked up as Louis locked eyes with him again.

“I don't have a problem with whatever gender you're attracted to. You know that. You _have_ to know that. I'm fine with Zayn, aren't I? But don't act like it has nothing to do with me.”

Harry could only stand there and stare at him. _This is not happening. This is **not** happening._

“You want to talk about how I'm hiding things?” Louis continued. “What about you? Why don't we talk about the huge elephant in the room that _everyone”_ —he cast a pointed look at Zayn and Niall—“seems to avoid?”

He shook his head at Harry. “I see the way you look at me, okay. Don't pretend like your feelings for me are purely platonic.”

He crossed his arms. “And so yeah maybe I pulled away a bit. Can you _blame_ me?”

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. He could tell his cheeks were heating up and his entire face would probably be bright red soon. Apparently his fears were very real. Louis did know. He had known the whole time.

The three of them were looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for what he would say. Harry wanted to scream at them to stop. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

Harry took a deep breath, trying to work some air back into his lungs. “Even—” He clenched his hands into fists, his nails biting into his palms as he tried to ignore the humiliation washing over him.

“Even if I had felt that way towards you, I never treated you any differently. I was never anything but a _friend_ to you.” He felt his composure slipping away. “So you can't—don't you dare try to blame this on me. You're the one who—” Harry's voice cracked.

He would not cry in front of Louis Tomlinson. Harry mustered as much dignity as he could and took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He gave Louis one last glare and pushed his way past towards the exit doors without another word. As he opened them to leave he faintly heard Niall say—

“That was cruel, Louis."

“Tell me I was wrong about it,” Louis said, his voice soft, but unrepentant.

There was silence.

Harry stepped outside. The door slammed shut behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Liam felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards as he watched Zayn and the rest of the guys argue about who would play next. They'd decided to stay in this Friday night and instead had spread out across the living room playing video games, now empty take away boxes strewn across every surface.

Truth be told he was still having some trouble believing Zayn was in his life now. Before Liam had been pretty content. His life basically revolved around schoolwork, boxing, and a handful of friends, but now he could add “hooking up” and with a very attractive guy no less.

Normally, Liam wasn't the biggest fan of change—it was unstable and scary—but this thing with Zayn was also exciting and exhilarating and Liam couldn’t really regret a bit of change this time around. Now, the two of them were hanging out quite a lot, even more so since Harry had fallen out with Louis.

(Liam was still trying to wrap his head around that one. Harry and Louis had been so HarryandLouis; it was plain weird seeing them apart. But he didn't know if they would be making up anytime soon—from what Harry said it was a pretty serious fight. They had seemed so happy and now Harry looked miserable all the time and was avoiding being in Haslington whenever he could. Instead he came down to Holmes Chapel and Zayn came with him more often than not.)

Liam leaned against the table, still watching. He'd been trying to clear away some of the takeaway containers (regardless of the fact that this was Aiden's house and not his), then Zayn's gesturing had caught his eye and before Liam knew it he was staring.

This happened more often than he'd like to admit.

The longer they spent around each other, the more Liam loosened up and Zayn began to let go of that protective shield he seemed to hold around himself. Liam had thought Zayn was all dry wit and sarcastic comments. And, well, sometimes he was, but he was also rather silly (he wasn't friends with Niall and Louis for nothing).

It was one unexpected thing after another. Like his prank pulling and comic book collection. His plans for becoming an English teacher. How he couldn’t swim and was afraid of water. The way he was endlessly covering his notebooks with doodles. Liam kept discovering Zayn in bits and pieces.

They were friends. They went to movies and footie matches and played video games... those definitely weren't dates though. He had a feeling Zayn would be against that particular label.

So they were friends… but they made out. Liam was pretty certain it was called “friends with benefits.” But the problem was Liam wasn't sure he a “friends with benefits" kind of guy. He didn't do casual. He did relationships. He did hand holding and dates and meeting the parents. It's not that Liam didn't like making out. He liked it quite a bit actually. But lately he'd been wanting more.

Liam had been keeping quiet about it because this thing between him and Zayn was new and fragile, so going slow was probably best for everybody. However, now it had been a couple of weeks Liam was itching to DTR (that is, define the relationship).

Zayn choose that moment to look up and catch Liam staring.

“Nevermind,” Zayn said with a smirk, pausing the game and tossing the controller to Aiden. His eyes were still locked on Liam's as he got up made his way across the room.”Well boys”—Zayn said as he reached him, fingering the top button of Liam’s shirt—“if you'll excuse us.” He was still staring straight into his eyes and even after all this time Liam's cheeks still got sort of pink whenever Zayn looked at him like that.

Aiden let out a groan and half-heartedly threw a sofa pillow at them. “Oh get out of here, no one wants to see your filthy displays.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nick called from his position sprawled out on the sofa. Even Harry cracked a smile at their antics. Zayn just waggled his eyebrows suggestively before dragging Liam forward by his shirt and disappearing down the hall into one of the bedrooms.

Zayn backed Liam up against the door, crowding into his space. “You were staring again.”

Liam's hands automatically went to Zayn's waist. “Was I?” he asked in an innocent voice. Abruptly, he slipped away, turning them around so Zayn was pressed up against the door instead of him. He didn't miss the shiver that ran down Zayn's back at the change in position.

“Hmmm,” Liam murmured. He nuzzled his face into the side of Zayn's neck, nipping lightly. “Must've seen something I liked.”

Zayn gave him that happy smirk he always made when Liam got slightly flirty. He tilted his head down to meet Liam's lips so they could kiss properly and then started to nudge him backwards. Liam got the message and with minimum stumbling he finally felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He briefly he broke their kiss to scoot back until he was propped against the headboard. Zayn gave him a predatory grin.

Liam got the feeling that he wasn't the only one that wanted _more_. But in Zayn's case it was along the physical rather than emotional lines. Liam guessed that Zayn was used to going further than making out and some light groping by now, but he was holding off for Liam's sake. Liam was grateful Zayn hadn't tried to push him further. He wasn't sure he was quite ready for anything else yet.

Not that he didn't think about it sometimes. It wasn't lost on Liam how very attractive Zayn was. Especially those times when they'd been making out for hours and Zayn's lips were all puffy and red and his hair was adorably mussed instead of in its usual state of flawlessness. And Zayn was loose-limbed and gazing up at Liam through his eyelashes, sprawled out like some sort of sex god.

Or like now, when he was straddling Liam's lap just like that first time at Aiden's party, looking down at him with that same smirk on his face like he was imagining all the filthy things he could be doing to Liam right then.

Liam hesitated for only a second before moving his hands from Zayn's waist and instead sliding them to the warm skin underneath his shirt. Liam's thumb brushed over the tattoo he knew Zayn had on his hip. Zayn broke the kiss with a grin and went to mouth the underside of Liam's jaw and down his neck. Liam's eyes fluttered closed as he tried (and failed) to catch his breath.

So yeah, Liam had definitely thought about Zayn naked.

But no matter what certain parts of his anatomy wanted, he was keeping all (well, most) of his clothes on until he figured out exactly what was going on between them. And Liam promised himself that he would stop chickening out and talk to Zayn—

Liam inhaled sharply as Zayn buried a hand in his hair and tugged, tilting his head back as Zayn's lips hovered temptingly over his, just out of reach. Liam surged forward.

…later.

+

“Later” however came much sooner than Liam would've liked. And even though there had plenty of opportunity, he waited to the last possible moment to bring it up.

“Bye.” Zayn gave him a quick peck on the lips. Liam was seeing him off from the front porch. "I'll text you when I get back.” He turned to go down the steps.

Liam's eyes widened in alarm. “Wait! Zayn.”

Zayn looked back at him, one foot still on the steps. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Liam stalled nervously. His palms felt clammy and he resisted the urge to wipe them on his jeans—then Zayn would definitely know something was up.

Zayn, however, was already watching him with slight concern. He came back up on the porch.  “What's up?”

Liam took a deep breath. “There's this motor show thing next weekend. The one in Tatton Park? Cars, motorcycles, you know.” Zayn's eyes narrowed. “And I know you mentioned sort of liking that stuff and I do too—well you know that already.” Liam cleared his throat. “Anyway I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go, you know, with me.”

“Oh.” Zayn was staring past him, his expression carefully blank. “Is Harry going to be there?”

Liam shook his head.

“Niall?”

Liam felt his heart sinking. “No. Just us.”

Zayn finally looked at him. His mouth was set in a grim line. “What, like a date?”

Liam thought he heard a hint of irritation in Zayn's voice. He let out a weak chuckle. “Why does it seem like you're not too happy about that.”

Zayn sighed. “Liam.”

“Zayn,” Liam parroted.

Zayn shoved his hands into his coat pockets with a frown. “Look, this has been... fun.” Liam grimaced. “But I'm not looking for anything serious.”

Liam’s gaze lowered for a moment. “I'm not asking for your hand in marriage,” he muttered.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “I thought you knew—”

“Well obviously not,” Liam interjected. He was surprised to hear the anger in his own voice. He took another breath to calm himself down. “We never really talked about it is all. Not anything specific anyway.”

“Right,” Zayn said, “I forgot you're…”

“I'm what?” Liam asked warily.

“You're different from the people I normally... do this with,” he finished with a wry grin.

“Oh.” Liam wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that statement.

“Here's how it is. I don't do relationships. I don't date. I don't want to hold your hand and go on romantic moonlit walks. I don't do _boyfriends_ and I don't do exclusive.”

“Now who's the one always saying don't?”

Zayn shrugged in apology. “That's how it is. I know it's probably not what you wanted to hear, but I'm not going to change.” Zayn licked his lips nervously, his indifferent demeanor faltering for a moment. “But I still uh, I mean if you still want to, I don't want to stop, if you don't.”

Liam supposed he could end the “benefits” part of their friendship. It would be awkward for awhile, but they'd get over it. His stomach twisted anxiously. “Nothing exclusive?” he ventured.

Zayn shook his head. “No. I can see who I want to see and hook up with whoever I want to hook up with.”

Liam couldn't help but let his face fall. _Does that mean— All this time— Has he already been with other people? When?_

Zayn's eyes widened at Liam's crushed expression. “Not that I have!” he said in a rush. “I mean not since after half-term.”

Liam's face brightened.

“But I could,” Zayn amended. “Like, if I wanted to.”

Liam thought it over. He stared at Zayn, watching as he stared back looking doubtful and a little awkward. Liam wasn't sure he could do casual. He didn't want to think about Zayn with other people. But he wasn't sure if he could give Zayn up yet either. He didn't want to stop just because Zayn wouldn't “hold his hand.”

“Yeah, okay,” Liam said finally. “That's fine. I'm still in.”

Zayn only made a small smile, but his eyes were sparkling with happiness. “Good.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Liam's neck. “It'll be alright," he said, his voice soft. He leaned in the rest of the way and gave Liam a bruising kiss that Liam returned just as hard.

Zayn pulled away, leaving Liam breathless as always. “Friends?”

Liam didn't hesitate.  “Friends,” he responded with a small smile.

“Hmm,” Zayn murmured before leaning forward to press another quick kiss to Liam's mouth. “Great. I'll see you then.”

Zayn turned to leave and Liam didn't call him back this time. It wasn't exactly the answer he’d been looking for, but at least it was an answer. At least they were on the same page.

Besides, he could do casual. Liam could be the king of casual.

 

+

 

“Eat lunch with Zayn today.”

Niall started, obviously not having heard Louis come up behind him. “What?”

Louis knew that according to the 'Harry and Louis Post Break-up Lunch Schedule' Niall was supposed to be sitting with Harry this today.

“Sit. With. Zayn. Today,” Louis repeated, emphasizing each word and looking at Niall meaningfully.

Niall's eyes widened. “Oh. Ohhh. Okay.” He picked up his tray to go join the lunch line. “Um. Good luck?”

Louis gave him a wan smile before taking a deep breath and searching out Harry in the crowded cafeteria. He expected to feel more nervous than this, but he actually was fairly calm.

The last two weeks had been complete hell. He didn’t have a clue what he was going to say to Harry, but he did know he needed his friend again and Louis was going to get him back any way he could.

Before, right after the fight, Louis had been angry. He was tired of apologizing. He was tired of being the bad guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d just needed some space and his friends constant insistence that he talk to them had been grating. Louis told himself it would all be okay. Sure, it was a bit of a bummer that he and Harry weren't friends anymore, but all in all he’d barely known Harry that long and they’d been friends for only part of that time.

He thought everything could go back to the way it was before. But it didn’t. Instead he felt Harry’s absence every second. Louis missed him. He missed how they could have entire conversations using only their eyes. He missed how Harry laughed when he was embarrassed. He missed Harry’s terrible puns and cheeky grins.

It was like Louis had let Harry into his life and now that he was gone there was a huge Harry shaped hole that Louis couldn't fill.

To no one’s surprise Louis’ anger had swiftly dissolved into more of a 'oh shit what have I done?' sort of feeling.

Louis spotted Harry sitting at what had become his new ‘usual’ table. He was alone, all of his attention focused on his lunch. Louis watched as he picked a chip off his plate before dropping it with a sigh.

The sight made Louis’ heart ache.

Perhaps worst of all, Louis saw he hadn't been the only one hurting. It'd already been established that Harry wasn’t the best at hiding his feelings and Louis could tell Harry was utterly miserable.

Truth be told, Louis hadn’t even seen their fight coming. He should have—looking back the blow up was inevitable. Everything was such a mess after the party. He didn’t have a problem with Harry being into guys, but it also meant he could no longer dismiss that niggling thought that Harry's feelings toward him were more than platonic.

Which wasn't a problem either really (besides, how much could Harry actually fancy him when he clearly had something going on with that Nick lad or Grimmy as Harry kept referring to him as). Nevertheless, when situations such as these occurred, there were only two things to do:

a) tell them that you return their feelings

or

b) let them down gently.

Louis did neither. Obviously, that was a mistake.

In theory Harry’s crush thing was flattering, but in reality it just made Louis’ mind go into overdrive, analyzing every little thing.

_Did that sound flirty? Am I sitting too close? How long is too long for a hug?_

_Am I leading him on?_

_…do I fancy him back?_

That last idea was absurd, but it was resilient, like a tiny parasite, and enough that he couldn’t quite just ‘let Harry down gently’.

Louis walked towards the table, gripping his tray between both hands. Harry had yet to notice his approach and had moved on to picking at his pizza.

In the days after the party Louis had been trying so hard to sort himself out, but every direction he turned his friends were demanding to know what was going on. Between that and attempting to keep up his trademark Louis Tomlinson attitude by pretending everything was okay—well it was no wonder most times he found it easier to avoid Harry entirely, if only to give his brain a break.

By Thursday afternoon Louis was a wreck. So he lashed out. And now he had to fix it.

Louis sat down in the open seat next to Harry. Harry looked up and his eyes widened slightly as he saw him before snapping back down to stare at his plate.

 _It's not a horrible start_. Louis watched Harry slowly resume eating. At least he hadn't glared or told Louis to go away. Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he was hoping the right words would tumble out (he was).

“Sorry for being such a twat,” he blurted out.

Harry choked on his mouthful of pizza, his eyes widening again and his face flushing. He glanced up at Louis and managed to swallow before looking back down at his food.

Even so, Louis felt as though the atmosphere between them had lightened a little. Louis grinned and nudged Harry with his knee under the table, hoping he would look up at him. After a moment Harry did so, watching him with curiosity and a bit of guardedness.

“I missed you,” Louis said softly. “A lot, actually.”

Harry hesitated and glanced back down at his tray for a second before meeting Louis' eyes again. “I missed you too.” There was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Not being your friend kind of sucked,” Louis continued.

The tension in Harry’s shoulders loosened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Louis shifted in his seat and his expression turned more serious. “I never should’ve made you feel like things were different because of what happened. That was…” Louis trailed off, trying and failing to find a word that could adequately describe how appalling and cruel his actions had been. “I never had a problem with you liking guys, Harry. I meant that. But I should've seen how I was coming off.”

“I shouldn't have pushed you. I should've just let—”

“You only pushed me because I was a being a massive twat, remember?”

Harry laughed, making Louis grin even wider. It was ridiculous how much he’d missed that laugh. Louis knew he’d made the right decision in coming to talk to Harry. As awful as the last two weeks had been for him, it was probably even worse having to see Harry upset.

“I had a lot on my mind,” Louis continued, deftly avoiding elaborating on what ‘a lot’ was exactly. He shrugged. “I’m kind of used to trying to handle stuff on my own. I didn’t want you guys to think that anything was wrong.”

Harry let go of his pizza and wiped his fingers on his jeans. “You... you were avoiding me. I thought…”

There was an involuntary pained noise from Louis and without a second thought he reached out and grabbed Harry’s hands where they were resting in his lap.

“I'm sorry.”

Harry lifted his head from staring at their clasped hands to look at Louis. His lips were parted slightly and his cheeks were turning a deep red color, but he didn't pull away.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I swear.” Louis’ voice was verging on pleading. He would beg if he had to. “I promise. You’re my friend and nothing will ever change that. Especially not whoever you're attracted to.”

Harry bit his lip, silent for a moment. “Not even if it was you?” he asked quietly.

Louis stilled.

Harry's blush deepened even more and he ducked his head, starting to draw his hands away.

Louis' eyes widened and he held on. He shook his head. “Not even if it was me.” His response came out a little croakier than he wanted, but his voice was steady.

Harry gave him a small smile, but still drew his hands away, giving Louis' hands a pat. Louis pulled back, not letting his hands linger on Harry's thigh. Harry averted his eyes and picked up his water to take a sip while Louis fought the urge to babble and waited for Harry to speak again.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced at Louis. “Did you know the whole time?”

Louis fidgeted in his seat. “Not really? But after the party, I sort of—yeah.”

Harry groaned. “My mum says I’ve never been good at subtle.”

"Yeah well my mum says I’ve got a habit going for the jugular whenever I get in an argument," Louis said with a grimace. "I shouldn’t—” He fidgeted in his seat again. “I shouldn't have thrown it back in your face like that.”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, it’s not even…” He exhaled. “I was never going to act on it. Just so you know.”

Louis felt a flash of disappointment and his mouth tightened as he dismissed it, refocusing on Harry. “Okay,” he murmured.

“I know you—you’re not, you know,” Harry stammered. “So.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“Oh don't worry about it,” Louis said after another few seconds of avoiding each other’s eyes. He kept his tone light, attempting to diffuse the awkward air. “I mean it was understandable.” Louis waved his hand theatrically as he mimed a hair flip. “I am pretty irresistible.”

Harry shook his head, seeming more relaxed. “Not that irresistible,” he muttered slyly.

Louis let out an indignant gasp. “Harold! How dare you!” Harry gave him a cheeky grin that absolutely did not make Louis' heartbeat pick up.

Abruptly, a tray was put down across from them. Louis glanced up to see Niall with Zayn hovering behind him.

“Have you two made up yet?” Niall asked. “Because I'm starving and I can't eat when I'm all anxious from watching you guys and lunch is almost over and if I didn't get to eat that'd be a _disaster_.”

Louis rolled his eyes at Niall before turning his attention to Harry.

Harry regarded him for a moment. “Yeah, we're good,” he said, his eyes not leaving Louis'.

“Excellent,” Niall sighed and sat down, immediately cramming an entire half of his sandwich into his mouth. Zayn sat next to him, starting in on his usual comments about Niall’s “completely gross” eating habits.

For the first time in two weeks things felt right and the rest of the lunch hour Louis and Harry kept sneaking happy glances from the corners of their eyes, basking in how everything almost seemed normal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! we're probably a little over halfway through the story now. and as always thanks for your kudos and comments :)


	13. Chapter 13

After he and Harry made up on Monday the rest of the week flew by. It was the last week before Christmas break and the entire school was torn between the excitement of having two weeks of freedom and exhaustion as their teachers tried to cram in last minute work. Nonetheless, Louis managed to find time to hang out with his friends, specifically Harry seeing as they were still trying to get used to each other again.

It was strange. After their rocky start the first time around the both of them had seamlessly slipped into being the best of friends. This time, however, things weren't going as smoothly. All of a sudden they were awkward around one another—stilted conversation, aborted touches. Before they seemed perfectly in sync now they were... off balance. 

Louis guessed it was because they had yet to stop walking on eggshells around each other (which was also odd because Louis usually took the bull in a china shop approach rather than handling things with a delicate touch). Still, they were 10x happier just being in each other's presence despite the weirdness.

In fact, Louis was kind of upset that they were leaving for break when they’d just become friends again. Harry was going home to Holmes Chapel and they both would probably be too busy with family stuff to see each other that much before school started. Yesterday they all said their goodbyes and now Louis was focusing on making the best of the next two weeks of vacation.

His plans of doing absolutely nothing and sleeping in, however, were ruined this morning when his mum pulled him out of bed to help her with food shopping for Christmas dinner. Why she had to go shopping at arse-o'clock in the morning was beyond him though.

Louis had taken to wandering up and down the aisles looking for something called cardamom, when someone caught his eye. He had only seen the other lad once, but his face was burned into Louis' mind.

“Grimshaw?” Louis said incredulously.

Nick looked up from the box of biscuits he was holding. His eyebrows rose in surprise and a smirk settled on his face. “Louis.”

Louis frowned. Simply looking at Nick made him simmer with anger. He just didn't like the guy. What business did he have being here anyway?

“Hey, should we get—”

Louis' head snapped around at the familiar voice as Harry rounded the corner with two bags of crisps in hand.

Harry stopped short. “Louis.”

“Harry?”

“And once again I'm Nick,” Nick interjected. Harry made a short, awkward laugh while Louis shot a barely concealed glare at Nick.

Harry seemed to get over his surprise and brushed past Louis to go stand next to Nick, dropping the crisps in the basket at his feet. Nick put an arm around Harry's shoulders, leaning into him, all the while staring at Louis with a smug grin on his lips. Louis couldn't help but glare back, wishing he could smack it off his face.

Harry cleared his throat. “So what are you shopping for?”

Louis tore his eyes away from Nick. “Helping my mum get stuff for Christmas dinner,” he explained, his tone a little short. “I thought you'd already left.” He was trying not to sound accusing.

Harry shrugged. “No. I packed all my things yesterday and decided to leave this morning instead. Nick actually offered to come up and drive me back to Holmes Chapel.”

“How nice of him,” Louis replied dryly.

“It is isn't it,” Nick quipped. Louis chose to ignore him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

With a jolt Louis remembered he'd stumbled out of bed, still mostly asleep before coming here. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that he was wearing baggy, worn pyjama bottoms, paired with a random grey jumper he'd grabbed off his floor that may or may not have been clean. Plus he hadn't even glanced at his hair this morning; he just crammed an old red beanie over what was probably a rat's nest at the moment.

“Well…” Harry said, obviously sensing the tension. “We only stopped by to grab a snack for the road so…” 

“Right.” Louis made himself grin, feeling sort of sheepish. “Of course. I'd better head off too. Have to find this cardamom or whatever my mum wants.”

“Aisle 7, mate,” Nick said with a cheery smile of his own.

Louis' grin slid off his face and he gave Nick a deadpan look. “Thanks, _mate_.” He started to turn away, but stopped as he remembered something.

He eyed Nick for a moment, who was still looking at him with far too much amusement. Louis ignored him and strode over Harry, standing close. He laid a possessive hand on Harry's arm, right beneath where Nick's hand was dangling. “You're still coming round on Boxing Day, right? For the footie match?”

Harry beamed at him. “Yeah, of course.”

Louis couldn't help but grin back, his heart lightening instantly. “Great.” The reply came out more like a breathy whisper.

The two continued to stare at each other affectionately and right as Louis was noticing, not for the first time, how green Harry's eyes were, he heard a snicker of laughter from his right. He glanced over at Nick, who raised his eyebrows in innocence, even though the corners of his lips were twitching suspiciously.

Louis dropped his hand and took a quick step back out of Harry's personal space. “Well I"—Louis could feel his cheeks warming—“I should—” He swallowed dryly and his hand came up to run through his hair only to falter at the last moment when he remembered he had a hat on.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed with confusion and slight concern. Nick's smirk got wider.

“Cardamom!” Louis blurted out.

He waved half-heartedly and made his way away from them as fast as he could. But apparently it wasn't fast enough because he heard Nick say, “Oh my god, he _definitely_ wants in your pants. He's so far—” Nick let out a pained grunt.

“Shut _up_ , Grimmy,” Harry hissed heatedly. Nick, however, didn't let a little elbow to the stomach stop him.

“Narnia, Hazza,” he wheezed out. “Narn. Nee. Ah.”

Louis finally got out of earshot and proceeded to spend the next ten minutes walking around the shop, convincing himself that Nick was an arsehole and a nutter and stubbornly avoiding aisle 7. Eventually, he gave up his search and broke down and asked a clerk.

“Excuse me, where can I find some cardamom?”

“Aisle 7.”

Louis’ expression darkened. “Of course.”

+

Nick Grimshaw was quickly becoming the bane of Louis' existence. Yet again Louis couldn't seem to get him out of his mind. Realistically, he knew that Harry had spent a lot of time in Holmes Chapel after they had their falling out, which probably also meant a lot of time around Nick. Louis was kicking himself particularly hard for that one.

He wasn't sure why he seemed so paranoid that Nick was going to steal Harry away from him. Nick wasn't going to replace him. And it wasn’t like Louis wanted to be the kind of “friend” Nick was to Harry anyway.

Harry's crush might've messed with Louis' head a bit for awhile there, but he wasn't into Harry like that. He wasn't into _guys_ like that. Besides, he and Harry had enough trouble just trying to maintain a basic friendship.

Nevertheless, Louis was overwhelmingly relieved when Harry kept his word and showed up on Boxing Day. But that had been days ago and now all Louis could think of was Harry and Nick... back in Holmes Chapel... alone... with so much uninterrupted free time...

Louis scowled into his beer bottle and finished it off in one large gulp. The “Nick Issue” was partially why he'd jumped at the chance when Stan invited him to this New Year's Eve party. Louis was planning on getting smashed off his face and forgetting he’d ever heard of Harry Styles and Nick Grimshaw.

It wasn't that he had a problem with Harry hooking up with a guy _(They have to be right?)_. He just didn't think _this_ guy was good for Harry, that's all. Louis had a bad feeling about him.

_How old is he anyway? Too old to be going after 15 year olds that's for sure._

Louis sighed and set down his empty beer bottle. He headed to the kitchen.

_I'm going to need something stronger._

That was pretty much the last thing he remembered.

+

Louis exhaled, slowly turning onto his back and putting his hand over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Judging from the way his head was pounding and the fact that his mouth tasted like something had died in it, he was rather sure he'd succeeded in his plan of getting completely pissed last night.

He let out a loud groan. Maybe too successful. His body felt like it'd been run over by a truck.

“God, that was a rough night,” a scratchy voice said next to him.

Louis gasped, his eyes snapping open as he twisted sharply to his side. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut again, grabbing his head in pain and fighting his growing nausea. After a second he forced his eyes to flutter open.

An attractive girl was lying beside him.

Louis squeaked in surprise and scrambled for the bed sheets, pulling them tight against his bare chest.

The girl made a throaty laugh and ruffled her hair sleepily. “Trying to protect your dignity there or something, Tommo?

Louis managed a weak smile before glancing around, trying to figure out what was going on. He was in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar girl. _Fantastic_.

Louis looked over at the girl, who was still waking up and clearly dealing with a hangover of her own. _Wait_. She did look sort of familiar. Louis figured he was somewhere in the house of whoever's of Stan's friends had thrown the party. _At least that’s where I hope I am._ His breath picked up in anxiousness. _What if I'm in her house? What if we—_

Louis clutched the sheet tighter and resisted the urge to peek under the covers. He had his pants on, but his shirt and jeans were missing. He swallowed hard. And that was definitely the feel of bare, very feminine, legs brushing against his.

“Er...” Louis stared at the bed intruder, trepidation clearly showing on his face.

The girl snuggled closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Hmm?” she mumbled. She placed a soft kiss on his neck.

Louis inhaled sharply. “Did we, uh”—Louis’ voice was shaky—“I mean, did we—"

The girl started to frown, slowly blinking open her big brown eyes. She gave him a lazy grin. “No we didn't have sex, if that's what you're asking.”

Louis let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping noticeably and his grip on the sheets loosening a bit.

The girl raised her eyebrows in mild amusement.  “Don't look too relieved there love, my ego might start getting a bit bruised.”

Louis had the grace to blush a little. “Well like you said it was sort of a rough night.” He turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. “If I had shagged someone as beautiful as you, I'd want to make sure I remembered every second of it.” He winked.

The girl laughed and rolled her eyes, shoving his chest. “Smooth as ever, Louis.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I bet you don't even remember my name,” she said, staring down at him with a skeptical expression.

Louis wracked his mind for any clues as to who she was. Pretty much everything from last night was a blur. “Um…”

He did remember Stan throwing an arm around him at some point and yelling far too loudly into his ear that there were some people he wanted to Louis to meet. Yeah, that was it. He remembered being introduced to her and some of her friends, but every time he tried to remember what came after “Louis this is—” he came up with a blank.

He did remember thinking she was pretty. That and she made a fun dancing partner. Louis groaned internally with embarrassment. He might’ve made up a very bad poem about her gorgeous long legs at some point. And—Louis licked his lips—he was quite sure they’d made out rather enthusiastically at some point… or at several points.

Louis glanced back up at the girl in question, who was still looking at him dubiously. “I had a lot of vodka?”

She let out an indelicate snort.  “I should've known you were already gone when you started that Spice Girls sing-a-long like two minutes after we met.”

Louis shrugged. “No, I'm pretty sure I've done that sober.”

The girl smiled and shook her head before sliding out of bed. Louis couldn't help but watch as she bent over to find her jeans, her hips wiggling a bit as she put them on. She turned back to him, a hand running through her long hair, trying to get it to lay flat.

Sitting down on the bed, she tucked one leg beneath her with the other dangling over the side. She leaned down into Louis' personal space. “It's Eleanor,” she said sternly. Her expression morphed into a mischievous smirk and she sprang up, ripping off the bedsheet as she stood.

Louis let out a surprised croak and shot up into a sitting position. “Hey!” he protested with a slight shiver.

Eleanor glanced at him in amusement before slapping him on his bare thigh. “Get up, Tomlinson. I need coffee.” She slipped on her flats. “And you”—she gestured towards him—“owe me breakfast at least, after this morning.”

She swung open the door and started to pull her hair into a messy bun. “Two minutes,” she said as she left, “or else I'm coming back up here for you and you do not want that.”

Louis stared after her, still frozen in his position on the bed.

So that was Eleanor.

It wasn't often someone could render Louis speechless...

Louis scrambled out of bed, trying to find his clothes and get them on as quickly as possible.

...and he was looking forward to finding out just what else she could do.

+

Louis reached across the sofa to pick up his vibrating mobile. He had a new text message from Niall.

**Hey party at mine tonight??**

“Hey, remember my friend Niall I mentioned?” Louis looked down at Eleanor, whose head was resting in his lap. “He's throwing a party tonight. You want to go?”

She grinned. “Uh, definitely.” The both of them were hanging out at Eleanor's house, watching the tv, though neither of them were really paying attention. Louis typed out an affirmative answer to Niall.

_Yeah!! We'll be there_

**We??**

Louis' tensed at his slip up and he glanced down at Eleanor, who had gone back to watching the movie. Technically he hadn't told any of his friends about her yet. Even though he and El had been hanging out a lot since the party, he wasn't sure how serious it was yet so he hadn't bothered.

But he did really like her. Besides the obvious fact that she was pretty, she had this great dry sense of humor. She laughed at his jokes, but she didn't put up with any of his bullshit. She was as brash as he was, which was always a plus, though she could be a bit too blunt for even his taste sometimes. Also, she could drink him under the table—and look fantastic doing it.

Did he mention that she was pretty?

_Yeah we. I'm bringing someone._

**Who???**

_You'll see_

Absentmindedly, Louis started to tangle his fingers in Eleanor's hair as he wondered what his friends' reactions would be. Eleanor pouted and batted at his hand. Louis pulled away reluctantly. He forgot that she didn't really like people playing with her hair.

A thought occurred to him and he shot another message to Niall.

_Zayn and Harry coming?_

**Dunno. Zayn maybe. I think Harry is still in hc.**

A wave of relief washed over him. Louis wasn't sure if he was ready to introduce Harry to Eleanor yet. He'd have to figure out how to handle that one later.

_K I'll be there_

**Brill. See you**

Louis tried to relax back into the sofa, but his mind kept drifting to the party tonight. It'd be nice to unwind some before school started again on Monday. Even so, he couldn't help but be somewhat apprehensive about how Eleanor and his friends would get along.

Unfortunately, Louis' nerves hadn't all disappeared a few hours later when they arrived at Niall's. He was good at hiding it though, slipping a loose arm around Eleanor's waist as they joined the crowd and steering them towards the kitchen. They had the best chance of finding Niall there.

He caught sight of Niall's shock of blond hair as soon as they entered the room. “Niall!”

“Lou!” Niall's smile dimmed when he saw Eleanor. “Oh. Is this your mysterious someone?”

Louis nodded and Eleanor stuck her hand out. “Hey. I'm Eleanor.”

Niall shook her hand. “Niall,” he said with a brief smile.

Louis held back a frown at Niall's reaction. It might've seemed normal enough to Eleanor, but Louis had known Niall for years and his greeting was off. Stilted even.

Niall looked back and forth between them. “So how do you two know each other?”

“We met at Chloe Blake’s New Year's Eve party.”

“That's whose house that was?” Louis questioned.

Eleanor made a tsking noise. “Yeah, Louis.” She turned to Niall. “It was a rough night,” she explained with a laugh. The three fell into an awkward silence.

“I'm sorry,” Niall started, glancing at Louis, “but she's your...?”

Louis shot him a glare. Obviously they hadn't discussed that yet or Louis would've mentioned it. He looked at Eleanor, attempting to gauge her reaction. Both of them were just staring at him expectantly.

“Uh, girlfriend?” Louis said, still looking at Eleanor.

Eleanor's expression changed to a wide smile. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Sounds good to me.”

Louis let out a tiny sigh of relief, but inwardly he was still feeling a little unsettled by this whole situation. “Great. Now that that's out of the way, why don't we get some drinks.”

Afterwards, everything seemed to go pretty okay. Louis took Eleanor around and introduced her to some of his other friends, who took to her much better. Eventually, he managed to track down Zayn as well, who was his usual chill and aloof self.

Louis hadn't forgotten about Niall though. He wanted to find out what was up with him earlier, but he didn't get a chance for ages, not until Eleanor went off to find the loo.

Louis cornered Niall by the stairs. “What was that all about?” he asked in a harsh voice.

Niall avoided Louis' eyes, taking a long drink from his cup. “What?”

“You're acting weird.”

“How?”

Louis gave him a hard look.

After a second Niall rolled his eyes and gave up his pretence with a sigh. “Well this was a surprise.”

Louis’ eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Niall shrugged. “Dunno. Didn't expect you to turn up with a girlfriend.” His eyes narrowed as well and he gave Louis a shrewd look. “I'm just wondering why you're dating her I guess.”

Louis leaned away from Niall, regarding him with an unreadable expression. “Since when do I need an excuse to date someone?” His tone was cold.

“You don't,” Niall shot back. His voice became muffled as he took another sip from his cup. “Only curious.”

Louis exhaled sharply in irritation. “Whatever.” The two stayed silent for the next few seconds, avoiding each other's eyes.

Finally, Niall glanced at Louis. “So. She seems nice.”

Louis gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, she's great.”

There was another pause.

“Have you told Harry yet?”

Louis stiffened. “No.”

Niall sighed and gave him a knowing look. “You need to.”

“I will,” Louis said forcefully.

Abruptly, Niall's expression darkened. “Better start with now.”

Louis frowned in confusion. “Wha—”

Large hands covered Louis' eyes from behind, as a low voice drawled, “Guess who,” in his ear.

Louis froze. “Harry?” he asked in a weak voice.

Harry uncovered Louis' eyes and threw an arm around his shoulders. He beamed at Louis, his face coming into view. “Lucky guess.”

Louis automatically smiled back even though internally his heart was racing a mile a minute. He was starting to panic. He was so not prepared for this.

Niall gave him a worried glance before asking Harry the very question burning in Louis' mind. “Harry, mate, I thought you weren't going to make it?”

Harry shrugged, clearly having not sensed the weird tension yet. “I caught an earlier bus. Sorry I didn't text you again, my mobile died.”

His happy expression faltered a little, finally catching on to their subdued faces. “So I thought I'd just come by… that was okay right?” His voice sounded small and unsure. Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking adorably worried as if it was actually possible his own friends hadn't wanted him at their party.

Harry's expression broke Louis' stupor. He gave Harry a fond smile and reached up to ruffle his curls. “'Course it is Haz, don't be silly.”

Harry, however, seemed to see right through him. He untangled himself from around Louis, stepping back. “What's going on?”

Louis opened and closed his mouth before sending a desperate look at Niall. Niall remained stubbornly silent. His message was clear, Louis was on his own for this one.

“Well, the thing is..." An arm snaked around his waist and Louis turned to see Eleanor next to him.

“Sorry I took so long. Queue for the loo took ages. I did meet this one girl though—” Eleanor caught sight of Harry, who was staring at her curiously. “Oh hi! You must be Harry. I thought I recognized you from Louis' pictures.”

She leaned around Louis and stuck out her hand, the other still firmly around Louis' waist. “I'm Eleanor.”

Harry shook her hand. “Yeah you're right, I’m Harry”—he glanced at Louis, a resigned expression on his face—“and you must be Louis' girlfriend.”

Louis blinked at him in surprise. That wasn't even phrased as a question.

Eleanor brightened. “Yeah. How did you know?” She glanced between him and Louis with a coy look. “Have you been talking about me behind my back?”

“No,” Harry replied, but he was staring at Louis. “Just a lucky guess.”

Louis took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to make this better. “Harry, I—”

“I have to go find Zayn. Say hi and all.” Harry gave Eleanor a brief smile. “It was nice meeting you, Eleanor.”

“You too!”

Louis looked on helplessly as Harry disappeared into the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh I'd like to get another chapter out today, but I'm feeling kind of blah at the moment, sorry :(
> 
> thanks for reading! my tumblr is [beckonedbyhopes](http://beckonedbyhopes.tumblr.com/)


	14. Chapter 14

Harry groaned and pulled himself out of bed. It took a few moments for him to realize the pounding he was hearing was coming from outside the flat and not inside his head. He stumbled down the hall and opened the door, blinking at the brightness.

“Hey.” Louis was standing in front of him, fidgeting and looking awkward.

Harry stared at him blearily. “Lou?”

Louis made a tentative smile. “Did I wake you?”

Harry blinked some more. “It's 8 o'clock on a Sunday.”

Louis’ smile turned sheepish. “Right. Sorry.”

Harry leaned against the doorway, still feeling half-asleep.

“I tried to find you again at the party, but I couldn't. Niall said you'd left already.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah. Decided to have an early night.” He gave Louis a tired grin. “Did you come all the way here because I didn't say goodbye?”

Louis didn't return his smile. In fact, he appeared uncharacteristically serious. “Sorry for not telling you about Eleanor.”

“I thought it was new. Zayn said something about New Year's Eve?” Harry yawned. “Anyway didn't she say you just made it official?”

“Well yeah, but you know, I still should’ve told you.”

Harry cocked his head to the side. “When?”

“I could have”—Louis made a helpless gesture with his arms—“I don't know.”

An indulgent expression came across Harry’s face. “Come inside.” He walked back into the flat, Louis dutifully following behind.

“You're not angry with me,” Louis said in a careful tone as Harry flopped down onto the sofa.

Harry rested his head on the armrest, a small smile on his face. “No.”

Gingerly, Louis sat down as well. He looked confused.  “But I thought... you would be?”

“Why would I—wait no, ignore that question.” Harry glanced down, absentmindedly toying with a lock of his hair. “I'm not some delicate flower, okay? You all can stop treating me like one. Yeah, I was, you know, _surprised_ , but it wasn't anyone's fault.” He met Louis' eyes again with a wry smile. Louis smiled back this time.

“We both know why you're acting like this. Thanks, but it's unnecessary. Besides”—Harry yawned again—“I thought we agreed never to mention my previous, obviously ill-conceived crush.”

Louis flushed. “I remember no such thing.” He added a posh accent. “And I'll have you know that fancying me is _never_ ill-conceived.”

Harry raised both eyebrows in amusement. “They are when you're straight.”

Louis dropped his teasing demeanor. “Oh.”

Harry shifted to a sitting position. “And have a girlfriend.”

“Right.”

Harry let out a short laugh before standing up fully. “Exactly.” He put a hand on Louis' shoulder. “So if you don't mind and have nothing else to unnecessarily apologize for”—he started to gently steer Louis towards the door—“I would like to go back to sleep.”

Louis pouted, putting up a halting hand against the door frame. “Aw, no Hazza, I'm up already.”

“Your fault.” Harry moved Louis’ hand and opened the door.

“Hang out with me.”

“The only thing I'm hanging out with right now is my bed.”

“Boo. Boring.”

Harry grinned. “Goodbye, Louis.” He closed the door on Louis' protests and held his breath until he heard the other boy's footsteps finally walking away.

Harry sighed and trudged back to the living room.

He hadn't lied to Louis exactly. Harry flopped down onto the sofa. He might’ve just... downplayed his reaction a little? He acted how he wished he felt. How he _should_ feel.

Harry had been taken aback by Eleanor last night. He hadn't expected Louis to turn up with a girlfriend. Why would he? He knew something was up when Louis had that guilty, panic-infused expression on his face while Niall was staring at Harry with that sort of pathetic, pitying look he always gave him whenever Louis did something stupid. Then some random, rather attractive girl had come up and thrown herself around Louis and the tension in the group instantly ratcheted up to an eleven.

Harry figured it out the moment she'd stuck out her hand and said “I'm Eleanor." It wasn't hard to put together. Then, after it’d actually been confirmed, Harry backed off, and quickly.

Mostly because Louis seemed two seconds away from trying to _apologize_ (which probably would have to be explained to Eleanor at some point and how embarrassing would that be?). But also because Harry's hands had started to twitch with the effort of not shoving her arms off from around Louis, replacing them with his own, and snarling “mine” straight in her face.

Harry groaned at the memory and grabbed the throw from the edge of the sofa. He wrapped it around himself until he was cocooned in his own blanket burrito.

Regrettably, however, Louis was not his. _And_ , as Harry tried to frequently remind himself, _he never will be_. In a way maybe Eleanor was a good thing. She was the very personification of all the reasons Harry needed to stop thinking about Louis like that.

Harry was finding the whole situation more and more embarrassing with every passing moment, especially thinking about his friends' reactions.

_Do I really come off that desperate and pathetic? I'm not going to break apart just because Louis started dating._ _It's only a bit awkward is all._

Harry jumped, feeling a vibration coming from underneath him. He wriggled an arm out of his cocoon and pulled his mobile from between the cushions. Louis' photo flashed on the screen, next to a new text message alert.

**So we're okay?**

From the beginning Harry had thought Louis was probably straight. Harry also thought that he'd been doing a pretty good job of controlling his more non-platonic feelings toward Louis for a while now.

**_Yeah_** _,_ Harry texted back.

_I can totally handle this girlfriend situation._

He exited the screen and found himself staring at his mobile's background—a photo of the two of them when they'd all been messing about at the footie field. Louis had his arms thrown around Harry's neck from behind, his face scrunched up in laughter. Harry was just beaming at the camera, looking like the happiest person in the world.

Harry swallowed. He put the mobile on the coffee table, face down.

_At least I think I can_.

+

“Louis needs to lay off.”

Harry bit back a sigh, glancing at Niall, who was practically glowering at Louis from across the crowded takeaway shop. “Louis doesn't need to do anything.”

Niall gave him an incredulous look as if they had not been having the same conversation all week. “I don't know how you can say that. It's just not on.”

“And I told you I don't need to be handled with kiddie gloves. It's fine.”

Niall snorted and went back to eating his burger.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Leave him alone Niall."

“Thank you.”

“If Harry wants to slowly torture himself with heartache then that's his business.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

Zayn stared back innocently.

“Thanks, Zayn.”

“No problem.”

“I think—” Niall started again.

“Swallow," Zayn commanded without looking up from where he was sketching something on the edge of his notebook.

Niall rolled his eyes, but dutifully finished chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “I don't see why you can't tell him to back off. I'm not saying he's a bad person. He just doesn't always think things through.”

Zayn interrupted again. “Enough with the lecture, you're starting to sound like Liam.”

“Well maybe someone's got to.” Niall waved his burger at them. “Self-destructive, all of you.” He took another massive bite. “And please don't ever compare me to someone who you stick your tongue down the throat of each week.”

Zayn shrugged. “Had my tongue on more than that.”

“Ugh.” Harry dropped his chip back into the box and glared at Zayn. “Gross. Don't say shit like that. And also you haven't, you liar. I do talk to Liam you know.”

Zayn smirked. “He talks about that with you?”

“He talks enough that I know you're not getting any,” Harry shot back.

Zayn's expression darkened. “Yeah well, I'm working on it.”

Harry laughed. “Good luck with that.”

“Don't joke about my sexual frustration, Harry,” Zayn groaned.

“Not my fault you can't commit.” Harry's tone was light, but his eyes were glinting with disapproval.

Zayn held his gaze stubbornly for a moment and then looked back down at his notebook with a huff.

Niall glanced between the two of them. “You're both idiots,” he muttered through another mouthful of food.

“Of course they are.” Louis slid into the booth next to Harry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Harry stiffened slightly before relaxing into the touch as Louis' side pressed flush against his own. Louis leaned his head over to briefly touch Harry's and then stole a chip from his box.

Niall was watching the space between them (or rather lack of it) intently with a small scowl starting to form on his face.

Harry nudged him under the table and widened his eyes a bit. _Stop it._

Niall's lips tightened, but he gave a half shrug and turned his attention back to his food.

Louis finished chewing and swallowed. He was watching the three of them suspiciously. “Everything all right?”

“Yep,” Zayn said in his usual drawl, managing, thankfully, to sound completely normal.

“Okay,” Louis drew the word out, throwing a quizzical glance at Harry. “So what are we talking about? Besides these two being idiots obviously.”

“Self-destruction,” Niall bit out.

Harry kicked him under the table again and gave Louis a forced grin. “How Zayn is a filthy liar.”

“How Niall wants my tongue down his throat.”

Niall made a fake gagging noise, some bits of food spraying from his mouth. “You wish, Malik.”

Zayn wrinkled his nose at the tiny chunks of masticated beef and removed his books from the table.

Louis watched them with an amused half-smile on his face and his hand left Harry's shoulder to start playing with the ends of his curls. Harry held back a pleased hum, but he could tell Louis already knew how much he was enjoying it by the way his smile started to curve into a smirk.

Louis nodded his head towards Niall and Zayn. _Do I want to know?_

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. _Definitely not._

“You're terrible.” Zayn was wiping off his book with a napkin. “How many times have I told you? Swallow.”

Niall winked unapologetically. “Bet you say that to all the girls. Or is it only Liam now?” He paused, pretending to think. “Oh wait, that's right, you're not getting any.”

Harry grinned. He was about to add to that, but abruptly he became aware of a warm breath across his cheek. The others' conversation faded from his mind as Louis nuzzled his cheek, inconspicuously murmuring in his ear.

“You're sure everything is okay?”

Harry lowered his eyes and tried to stop a flush from taking over his face. “Yeah.” He hoped he was imagining how breathless he sounded.

Louis pulled away with a smile, but he didn't go far, just enough that he could see Harry's eyes. “Alright.”

Louis’ gaze flickered over his shoulder. “Oh, El’s here.”

Harry watched Louis get up to go greet his girlfriend and then he dragged his gaze back to the table. Zayn and Niall's conversation had petered off and now they were staring at him with identical looks of disappointment.

Harry looked down, avoiding their eyes.

“I can handle it,” he muttered.

Both Niall and Zayn gave snorts of disbelief this time.

+

Okay, so maybe Harry had overestimated his self-control a little. He'd honestly thought he could handle this whole Eleanor situation. That was until Monday after the party when Louis threw him yet another curveball.

At first Harry thought he was imagining it. But when he saw Niall and Zayn's sidelong glances and curious looks he knew it wasn't all in his head.

Before Christmas break things had still been sort of awkward between them, but now Louis was acting like that hadn't been the case at all. He was back to being all over Harry and smothering him with affection. Previously, Harry would’ve loved that, but now, after their fight and the incoming of Eleanor, it made him feel a little uncomfortable.

True, he may have implied that he didn't have a crush on Louis anymore, but Louis didn't have to rub it in. For the first couple of days Harry wondered if maybe he was trying to overcompensate for having a girlfriend now; trying to show Harry that just because Eleanor was around it didn't mean she was replacing Harry as his friend. _(Well thanks for the thought Lou, but no thanks.)_

Nevertheless, it was great that the old tension was gone, even if it was replaced by Harry's constant internal struggle. Louis seemed so much more comfortable around Harry. Harry thought it would’ve been the opposite now that he had a girlfriend.

But then a second thought occurred to him.

_'Now that he had a girlfriend.'_

Now that Louis was with Eleanor, it was fine for him to touch Harry again. There was nothing to misinterpret. Of course it was platonic. He was dating Eleanor.

Harry wanted to be angry about it. Niall and Zayn certainly were.

But the same anger that sparked at the realization fizzled out just as quickly. He was tired of being angry and uncomfortable and analyzing everything. All he wanted was for him and Louis to be okay. He wanted everything to go back to that first party where they became friends—where they were inseparable and perfect and completely at ease with one another. 

Niall and Zayn had their own opinion. They thought that Louis was overstepping—rubbing salt in Harry's wounds so to speak.

Yet Harry maintained his “it's no big deal stance” even though over the next few weeks it was becoming increasingly apparent that might not be as true as he’d hoped. Harry may have been getting better at controlling his feelings, but he wasn't made of stone. Sometimes his heartbeat still quickened when Louis got too close. Or his breath hitched when Louis whispered something in his ear.

But any time it crossed his mind to confront Louis about what he thought, he would look into those happy, innocent blue eyes and he couldn't. Frankly, Harry wasn't sure if Louis even realized what he was doing. And Harry didn't want to be the one to burst the blissful little bubble they had going on.

He knew this particular course of action probably wasn't the best idea for the long run. But he was tired of fighting it all. He _wanted_ to lean into Louis' touches. He _wanted_ Louis' hands in his hair and kisses on his cheeks. He _wanted_ Louis to throw his legs over Harry's lap when they watched movies and let Harry fall asleep on his shoulder.

...even though Harry knew it would only lead to his heart being bruised and broken.

He was counting on Eleanor's presence to act as a grounding force in whatever 'Louis fantasies' Harry might've been tempted to get swept up in. And the plan seemed like a good one considering Eleanor was around all the time now. She and Louis were inseparable, which wasn't wholly unusual for a new couple, but Louis was also still really attached to Harry.

Eleanor seemed to like Louis' friends, but sometimes Harry wondered if she didn't find it weird that they were always hanging out in a group. Despite how often she was around, Niall, Zayn, and Harry hadn’t warmed up to her yet. They were trying for Louis' sake, but they hadn't managed to get past that stage of overly polite friendliness.

Harry watched as Louis reappeared, this time with Eleanor, his arm loosely hanging around her waist.

He couldn't deny that Louis and Eleanor were good together though.

They were both attractive and had a similar sense of humor. They liked to do the same things and their outgoing personalities fed off one another.  Harry could see why they made a good match. When he mentioned this to Zayn however, he looked at Harry like he was crazy and said, _“Well yeah, she's basically his clone in girl form. But really I've seen Louis have more sexual chemistry with Niall's gran.”_

Louis sat down next to Harry again. Harry noted that Louis was still pressed close against him despite the extra space in the booth _and_ the fact that his girlfriend was right on the other side of him. Then again why would it matter— _It's only platonic,_ Harry reminded himself firmly. Louis was straight and completely disinterested in him romantically.

“Harry?”

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by Eleanor's voice. “Sorry, what?”

“We were thinking of going over to the diner tomorrow. You're coming right?”

“Probably not. A friend from home is coming up, so I'll probably be spending most of the day with him.”

Louis stiffened beside him. “Since when? You didn't tell me that.” He stared at Harry in suspicion. “Who's coming?” His tone said he knew exactly who Harry was talking about.

“Nick.”

“Grimshaw?”

Harry tried not to let his irritation show. “Yes.”

Harry knew Louis and Grimmy didn't get along. Louis had always been a bit prickly about him, but he could never give Harry a straight answer about it. He just grumbled about not liking Nick's attitude or something. Plus he was always making constant quips about him being too old for Harry even though Harry had told him repeatedly that he and Nick were only friends now.

Nick, of course, made things worse, simply because he could. He took delight in pushing Louis' buttons and he never missed an opportunity to do so. Not to mention annoying Harry by constantly informing him just how far in the closet Louis was. Then again, Nick tended to think everyone was secretly gay, so Harry was used to it.

However, Nick also maintained that Louis had a massive crush on Harry. Harry tried explaining that Louis had a girlfriend _(“since when does that mean you can't like guys?”)_ and that Louis was like that with all his friends _(“yeah if he wants to get in their pants”)_ and that he just needed to warm up to Nick _(“he looks at me with murder in his eyes, Harry”)_ , but Nick was unmovable.

“You should bring him,” Eleanor interjected. “Oh and that other friend, if he can come. Liam? Then I'll have met everyone.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah okay. I can ask them.”

She beamed at him. “Great.”

“Great,” Harry said with about half as much enthusiasm. He was starting to feel sort of nauseous.

“And you’re coming too, right Niall?” Eleanor asked.

Niall shook his head and swallowed before responding. “And be seventh wheel on whatever weird three-way date you're having? No thanks.”

“They're not dating,” Louis bit out as Zayn said, “We're not dating,” at the same time. Louis probably wasn't talking about Zayn and Liam though, given the skeptical, uncertain way he was staring at Harry.

“Right. Whatever you say,” Niall said with raised eyebrows. “But you kids have fun anyway.” His attention returned to his food. “On your dinner date,” he muttered under his breath.

+

“—and then she had the bright idea to invite the both of you. I don't know. I don't hate her. She's just— I guess I just wish she wasn't always around.”

Harry was leaning back in his desk chair, staring at the ceiling. His mobile was pressed to his ear as he complained to Liam.

“Uh huh,” Liam said from the other end of the line.

“But you can come right?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Great, thanks. I've already told Nick, he was practically overcome with excitement of course. He hasn't met Eleanor yet. She's in for a surprise.”

“Yeah.”

“He's probably going to be insufferable,” Harry said with a groan.

“Probably.”

Harry frowned. “Everything alright? You sound distracted.”

“Oh.” Liam paused. “Sorry.”

“No”—Harry sat up—“I meant, are you okay?”

“Sure. I guess.”

“Uh huh. So that's a no then.”

“It's not—”

“Tell me.”

Liam was quiet for a moment and then, “Do you remember Danielle?”

Harry blinked and leaned back in his chair. Not what he was expecting. “Peazer? On the dance team?”

“Yeah. Her.”

Harry let out a short laugh. “Um yes. You only had a giant crush on her for the entirety of Year 9 and 10.”

Liam sighed. “Right. Well she asked me out.”

“What?” Harry shifted forward in his seat quickly, ignoring the ominous squeaking noise his chair made. “Seriously?”

“She has this fundraiser thing coming up and she needs a date. So she asked me. Not just 'as a friend' either. An actual date. Believe me. I asked.”

Harry stifled a laugh at Liam's stunned tone. “That's great.” He hesitated. “What did you tell her?”

There was a quiet groan from the other end of the line. “That I'd let her know by Monday.”

“Oh.” Harry bit his lip anxiously as Liam remained silent. Obviously he'd have to be the one to bring up the real issue here. “What about Zayn?”

“What _about_ Zayn?” It was the closest Liam had come to snapping at Harry in ages. Harry didn't take offense though. He knew the Zayn situation the past few weeks had been rough on Liam.

Liam sighed again, sounding tired.  “Sorry.” Harry's heart ached, imagining the pained look on his face. “It's just, it doesn't really matter does it? Zayn and I aren't like that. We decided.”

Harry let out a disbelieving huff. “He decided,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“No,” Liam said firmly. “ _We_.” It was a discussion they'd had plenty of times before. “I agreed, Harry.”

Harry let out a sigh of his own. “I know. But... you're not happy about it.”

There was no response from Liam.

“So what about Danielle?” Harry asked, changing the subject. “Do you still like her? Do you want to go?”

“Well, yeah I like her. She's _Danielle_. But I haven't thought about it much since last year. I pretty much decided I had no chance.”

“Yeah and made that awful decision of going after Emily for ages.”

“Oh ha ha. Please don't remind me of that disaster.”

“Sorry, sorry. But you do want to go right? I'm pretty sure Year 9 Liam would kick your arse if you didn't take this chance.”

“I know,” Liam moaned.

“But...” Harry prompted.

He heard Liam take a deep breath. “Can I really date two people at the same time?”

Harry snorted. “Yes.” He sobered a little. “The real question is do you want to.” Harry held his breath as he waited for Liam's response.

“No.” Liam's voice was soft, but he sounded firm.

Harry's shoulders slumped with relief. _Finally_.

He'd tried to be supportive of Liam and Zayn's casual relationship (okay maybe he hadn't tried that hard), but it was difficult. Liam was deluding himself into thinking that this was what he wanted and Harry could tell it was eating him up inside. Harry only wanted to protect him.

“Well then there's your answer.”

“It's not that easy—”

“Yes it is.”

“Zayn—”

“You're not falling for him are you?”

For a few seconds all Harry could hear was the sound of Liam breathing.

 “…no.”

Harry's lips thinned in disappointment. _Liar_.

Harry didn't call him out on it though. Sometimes all you could do was ride out the inevitable heartbreak. The least he could do was let Liam keep the illusion of having everything under control. More so, Harry really wasn't the guy to be chastising others about falling for the wrong person.

“But I still like him,” Liam added on, sounding small.

Harry felt another flash of irritation at Zayn. Technically, he knew there was nothing wrong with casual relationships. And technically he knew that Zayn had been up front with Liam. But he couldn't help but resent him a little for making his best friend feel this way.

“I know. But you're not- you don't seem happy.”

“I said I'd try it his way.”

“And now you can say to try it your way. There's nothing wrong with wanting, you know, monogamy.”

“There is if you're a teenage boy.” Liam sounded despondent.

“Myth,” Harry replied flippantly.

Liam huffed. “Why couldn't I be like you?”

Harry frowned. “Um.” Unconsciously, his grip on his mobile tightened. “What?”

“Oh come on. I've heard about your summer, Harry. Sticking with one person wasn't exactly your M.O.”

Harry shifted in his chair. “Hey, I was experimenting. And yeah okay, but I wasn't exactly looking for a relationship then. It's not like I don't want one ever. I would if I found the right person.” They left said person's name unspoken.

“Yeah, I know. God, I'm pathetic,” Liam whined. “I sound like such a girl.”

“You're not pathetic for wanting what you want. And there are plenty of girls only looking for a one-off. I met them this summer, remember?” Harry joked.

Liam, however, still sounded upset. “So I'm just a freak of nature in general.”

“No, you're not.” Harry shrugged, spinning slowly in his chair. “You just want different things.”

Liam's end of the line went silent for long enough that Harry wondered if the call had dropped. “Liam?”

“He's not going to want to, is he?” Liam asked softly.

Harry stopped spinning, his heart sinking. Both he and Liam seemed to have a very good idea about how Zayn would react to the title of 'boyfriends.'

“You still have to talk to him,” Harry said. He tried to be as gentle as possible. “And if he doesn't—”

“Harry, I swear if you say 'there are other fish in the sea'...”

Harry laughed. “That's not what I was going to say. Though don't knock it, it's true.” Harry chewed at his bottom lip. “The thing is, either way you'll be unhappy. At least this way you can start to move on.” He paused.

“And if he doesn't see it your way we can just hide all of his hair products.” Liam laughed. It was soft, but it was there. Harry grinned.

“Harry—”

“No, seriously. I'm pretty sure he gets them specially delivered in the post. He'll be devastated.”

“Yeah, okay, sounds like a plan.” Harry could hear Liam moving around his room. “I better go. School stuff to do.”

“Alright. But you will talk to him right? After dinner tomorrow?”

“I..." Liam exhaled. “Yeah. Fine. See you then.”

“Bye.”

“Harry?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading and your comments/kudos!! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which a good thing happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to actually do something with my life today so this update is a little late.

Zayn couldn't help but to shoot another curious, verging on worried look at Liam. He'd been twisting his napkin since they sat down. A few more minutes and it would probably be shredded to pieces.

Liam being sort of anxious wasn't exactly a new thing, but none of Zayn's usual tactics to take his mind off whatever it was were working. If anything they seemed to make it worse. Liam tensed rather than relaxed whenever Zayn moved close to him. A smirk or a smile was met with only weak half-grimace in return. It was putting Zayn on edge.

Zayn wasn't sure why he'd agreed to this stupid dinner in the first place. Socialization was not his thing. He'd gotten more comfortable around Nick since he started spending time in Holmes Chapel; Eleanor, however, threw the dynamic off and it was making tonight extra torturous to sit through.

Zayn glanced down at the other end of the table where she was sitting, attempting to engage Harry and Nick in a conversation. They'd all tried to be nice to her, but Zayn was pretty sure she could tell they weren't embracing her with open arms. Obviously, this dinner was her way of trying to get to know them better.

Nick laughed at something Eleanor said and his arm dropped around Harry's shoulders as he leaned back. Zayn rolled his eyes, seeing Louis' hands tighten around his menu.  He looked to Liam to share in the absurdity it of all.

Zayn's face fell. Liam wasn't even paying attention to him. Then again, he wasn't paying attention to much of anything. So far Liam had been mysteriously quiet, seemingly lost in his own world. Zayn was the only one that had really noticed though. Louis was too busy keeping a watchful eye on Nick and Harry while Harry was trying to referee Louis and Nick, and Eleanor was just trying to make sense of it all.

Zayn wouldn't exactly call Liam outgoing, but he was friendly enough and always made an effort to try and get to know everyone. Tonight, however, he'd barely even looked at Eleanor, despite the fact that she was Louis' new girlfriend and had already made several attempts at conversation herself. It was difficult with them sitting at opposite ends of the table, but still, it wasn't like him.

At first Zayn wondered if it was some sort of act of solidarity to Harry or something. But truthfully Zayn wasn't sure Liam could pull off being rude to her intentionally, best friend loyalty or not. Besides, what did that have to do with Zayn?

Zayn felt an uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck. He knew Harry wasn't thrilled with him and Liam. Zayn had tried to ignore it. Liam was perfectly capable of making his own decisions and Harry was a hypocrite if he was going to judge them for being casual. Rationally, he knew Harry was only being protective, but Zayn didn't appreciate being judged. Not from his friends anyway.

Zayn's foot started to jiggle unconsciously. _What if that's what this is about though? What if Liam is actually freezing me out on purpose?_

He hadn't noticed he'd been staring at Liam rather intently this whole time until Liam's eyes shot up, meeting his own. Zayn could have sworn he saw a flicker of panic, but it was gone before he could confirm it, replaced with Liam's normal warm, brown eyes.

Liam smiled at him shyly and Zayn’s body instantly relaxed, a happy, relieved feeling spreading through him. He smiled back, perhaps a bit a wider than his normal half-smirk. He ducked his head for a moment to get a firmer grasp on his emotions.

_See? Everything is fine. Stop worrying._

Zayn lifted his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but Liam had already turned away and was talking to Harry. The corners of Zayn's mouth tugged down into a slight frown. He looked at the two of them for a moment and let out a tiny sigh of resignation. He'd have to talk to Liam later. They still had the rest of dinner.

Zayn refocused on the three-ring circus happening at the other end of the table. Nick and Louis were still engaged in their silent battle of wills. Well, Louis was in battle, with all his glaring and clenching hands and whatnot. Nick just looked perpetually amused.

Zayn glanced between the two of them and wondered if he should step in to distract Louis or something. He knew Nick would keep pushing it. Though maybe it was better for Louis to snap…

_Then we wouldn't have to put up with this charade... or it could ruin Harry and Louis' friendship. Again._

Zayn let it go. Even with his game of ‘taunt Louis’ Nick was the only one who was paying Eleanor any real attention. Not that Nick had suddenly become a benevolent person—a large part of his “attention” was giggling at her like he had some sort of secret and found everything hilarious.

(The secret, of course, was that her boyfriend was probably in love with Harry and unfortunately she was a pawn in the middle of his sexual confusion. That, and besides her, Harry, and Louis, everyone at the table knew it.

Zayn almost felt bad for her for a second.)

The conversation paused as the waitress came back with their food and Zayn dug in gratefully, shoving forkfuls of his side salad in his mouth. The faster he ate, the faster he would be finished, and the faster they all could finally leave. Zayn glanced around the crowded diner, taking the time to chew and swallow after he almost choked on a crouton.

_I wish Niall was here_.

Niall was always great in these sorts of situations. He had this way about him that put people at ease. By now he could've stopped Nick and Louis from sniping each other, distracted Eleanor from catching onto Nick's innuendos, and engaged them all in an animated conversation without breaking a sweat. He probably could've also told Zayn why Liam was acting funny.

In the least, if Niall was here Zayn would have someone to commiserate with about all the crazy that had been going on lately.

But instead Zayn was alone, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Not that he would admit it, but he’d already been antsy about this whole night ever since Niall accused it of being a date.

_Is it a date?_

Louis and Eleanor were certainly dating and Harry and Nick had gotten together in the past. And Zayn and Liam. Well.

Zayn took a subtle peek at Liam from across the table.

_Should I have invited him instead of Harry? Does he think this is a date?_

Zayn knew being causal probably wasn't Liam's cup of tea. He’d been surprised that Liam went with it at all. Zayn had acted as if he would've been fine with whatever Liam decided, truthfully though he’d been scared of Liam backing out. Being with Liam was the most interesting thing to happen to him lately. Zayn didn't want to be normal friends. He was quite fond of the “benefits” part of their arrangement.

But only that. Fond. Not in love. Not even a crush. Zayn refused to be attached to anyone and he would never be a relationship person again—not even for Liam.

Zayn frowned down at his salad, pushing a few wilty bits of lettuce around.

He didn't like relationships. They were based on _feelings_ and those weren't really Zayn's forte. Also they were complicated. And messy. It was all so unnecessary. He didn't need or want a boyfriend. He could hang out and have fun with his friends and get his 'other needs' taken care of with no strings attached.

Relationships came with labels and expectation and trust. Zayn liked none of those things. They all led to someone getting hurt. Always. He didn't have any room for that type of vulnerability in his life.

He and Liam could stand each other's company and they had good sex. _Isn’t that enough?_

Zayn put down his fork and leaned back in his chair with an internal sigh. Well, they weren't having sex. He glanced at Liam again, licking his lips unconsciously.

That was a rather large snag in Zayn's perfect situation actually. He couldn't remember the last time he’d gone so long without some sort of below the waist action.

He took a long drink from his Coke. Zayn tried not to think about Liam _that way_ when they were out in public. His mind tended to run away with him, leading to some unfortunate side effects. But how was he supposed to keep it PG when Liam was always sitting around looking hot and smiling and making Zayn want to jump him every second?

Zayn closed his eyes briefly. _Okay,_ _so maybe I am a little sexually frustrated._

Normally, he didn't bother with people who didn't put out. It was only for Liam that he was willing to have a little patience. Then again, most of the time people holding out were trying to play stupid mind games. Trying to hold something over you. Acting coy and hard to get when they really weren't.

_Liam isn't like that though._

At that thought Zayn found his mouth twitching with the start of a smile. He tapped down on the urge with a brutal quickness.

_I can't know that._

Thoughts like that one had been happening more and more since he became friends with Liam and every time Zayn had to remind himself to stop—to take those stupid assumptions, lock them in a box and tuck them away in the back of his mind.

As nice as Liam seemed, it didn't mean Zayn could blindly trust him. For one, he hadn’t really known Liam that long. And two, if there was one thing the human race in general was good at, it was taking advantage of someone's trust and breaking it.

Zayn forced himself to finish off the last of his food and hoped no one would want stick around for dessert. This dinner had gone on long enough. The waitress came to collect their dishes and Zayn gave her a polite smile as she got around to him. She grinned back, leaning over a bit closer than necessary to get his plate.

With a flare of surprise Zayn realized she was flirting with him. _Has she been doing that the whole time?_ She straightened up again, brushing against him and flashing him another smile. Zayn smirked back and gave her a once over as she walked away, her hips with a definite sway.

Zayn knew he could go and get from others what he wasn't getting from Liam. It wasn't like he didn't have a mental list of willing and ready people. But whenever he thought about it, he just wasn't that interested. Everyone was giving off that 'been there, done that' vibe.

Zayn shrugged off thoughts of the waitress and reached for his wallet. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up and realized Liam was staring at him with a dark expression. Zayn swallowed and held his gaze, but Liam turned away, focusing on Harry, who'd been trying to get his attention.

Zayn huffed, counting out his portion of the bill and throwing it on the table. He refused to feel guilty. It was one little look. He hadn't even been interested. Liam had no right to make Zayn feel guilty with his angry, hurt puppy eyes. _This is why I don't do relationships._ _We're not even in a relationship._

“There's this coffee place nearby,” Eleanor suggested as they gathered their things. “Do you all want to go?”

_And right when I thought I was free._

Zayn didn't have anything against Eleanor, but if she kept having these bright ideas he might have rethink his position. Everyone else seemed to want to go however, including Liam, so Zayn stifled his groan and put on his coat instead.

He hoped that he would at least have some time to get close to Liam. Zayn had been in his presence for over an hour now and no substantial touching had happened yet—it was kind of making him feel a little desperate. But as soon as they left the table Liam slotted himself between Harry and Louis. Zayn fell back with a pout, feeling slighted.

He was going to sulk all the way to the cafe, but when they got outside Liam said, “Sorry, I actually think I'm going to walk around some.” He turned to Zayn with a serious face. “You want to come?” Briefly, Zayn considered being petty and saying he did want to go for some coffee _thankyouverymuch_ , but he was too anxious to talk to Liam so he nodded instead.

The rest of the group left without a fuss, probably sensing the awkward tension in the air. Liam shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He wasn’t looking at Zayn. “Did you want to..." He nodded his head in the direction opposite to the coffee shop.

“Yeah,” Zayn said quietly. He mimicked Liam's position and buried his hands in his coat pockets as they started to walk. “So is this where you finally tell me why you've been acting weird all night?”

A hint of smile appeared on Liam’s lips. “That obvious?”

“Yeah. To me anyway.” Zayn slowed to a stop on the pavement. His fingers curled around the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He could really use a smoke right now.  “What's this about?”

Liam took a deep breath. His mouth was slightly parted as if he was going to say something, but then it clicked shut and a weird expression crossed his face. Instead of speaking Liam closed the gap between them and kissed Zayn softly.

Zayn was sort of confused, but he returned the kiss, glad to finally be touching. Liam cupped his cheek and Zayn wrapped his arms around him, pressing closer. Liam may have ignored him most of the night, but Zayn was determined to move this moment from chaste and gentle to hot and heavy. Liam must've had something else in mind though because instead he pulled away with one last brush against Zayn’s lips.

Zayn pouted. He tried to follow his mouth, but Liam untangled himself from Zayn's arms, taking a step back.

He held back a sigh. Apparently now it was time for serious conversation. “Go on. Say what you have to say.”

Liam ran a hand through his hair and finally looked at him straight on. “We're friends, right?”

Zayn nodded warily.

“But, have you ever thought about being more? I mean more than we are now.”

Zayn sighed aloud this time.  _So we're back to this._ He hopped up to sit on the stone ledge. “This is about the whole relationship thing.”

Liam made a short nod.

Zayn pulled a face. “We have the perfect thing going right now. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

“I'm not trying to ruin it.” Liam shrugged. “I mean it's almost like we’re dating right now—”

“It is not.” Zayn's frown deepened and he looked away from him. He refused to think that he and Liam were already acting like boyfriends—regardless of how Zayn couldn't keep his hands off Liam even in public, or how he always missed Liam whenever he wasn't around, or, most glaringly, the fact that Zayn had barely glanced at (let alone shagged) anyone else since they’d become friends.

But that didn’t prove anything.  Zayn simply hadn't been interested. And the rest of that stuff was basic lust. Zayn had someone new and shiny to play with. That was all.

Liam took a small step towards him and leaned against the ledge. “We've been doing casual for awhile. I was thinking that maybe we could try actual dating.”

Zayn's eyes snapped to Liam, who had opted for staring out into the street instead of at Zayn.

_No_.

Zayn's answer was always no. Granted he usually dropped someone at the first sign of clinginess, but occasionally people had tried to get more out of him than a quick fuck. But when Liam had asked...well the answer was still no. What frightened him, however, was the little voice that popped up in the background that had said—

Zayn stiffened, his heart pounding. This was not supposed to happen.

“No.” It came out harsher than he intended, but Liam didn't so much as flinch.

Liam was slumped against the wall, still staring outwards. “Oh. Well. I didn't think so, but I thought I'd ask.”

Zayn felt his heart rate slowing. _Is that it?_

But Liam still hadn't moved to leave and join the others. Zayn looked down at him curiously. Even though Zayn had just rejected him (again), Liam seemed more at ease than he had the entire night. Calm even.

_What's that about?_

Zayn slid off the ledge and the two of them started to walk back towards the coffee shop. He fumbled with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket before finally getting one out and lighting it. _Fuck it._ He knew Liam hated him smoking, but he really needed this right now. He took a few short drags, expecting it to take the edge off. (It didn't.)

“So what brought this on? Harry finally push you over the edge?” Zayn pretended he didn't sound bitter. It had to have been Harry. He’d disapproved of them from the beginning and even though he'd tried to keep his mouth shut, Harry had never been good at subtle.

“No.” Liam's brow was furrowed in confusion.

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously trying to tell me Styles had no part in this?”

Liam shifted awkwardly. “All he said was that it wouldn't hurt to talk to you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Zayn took another inhale from his cigarette.

Liam's lips thinned. “I know Harry wasn't really happy about us, but this was my decision. He's my friend and he was looking out for me. He knew I wasn't—” He hesitated.

Zayn slowed to a stop, his eyes narrowing. “Wasn't what, Liam?”

“...happy.”

Zayn's stomach dropped. _What? He wasn't—but what about—_

His expression darkened. “Could've fooled me,” Zayn said lowly. Apparently Liam _had_ fooled him.

Liam's eyes widened. “I didn't mean it like that. I liked, you know...” His cheeks were pinkening.

Zayn felt a ripple of affection before he squashed it in irritation. Liam had no right to look cute when Zayn was upset with him. Zayn dropped the cigarette, crushing into the pavement. He contemplated lighting another one.

“I just wasn't a huge fan of the casual part. I tried, but then Danielle—”

“Danielle?” The word was out before Zayn even thought about it. He knew Liam's friends and Zayn had _never once_ heard him mention a Danielle. The name was accompanied by a spike of apprehension.  “Who's Danielle?”

Liam's cheeks flamed. “She, uh, goes to Holmes Chapel.”

“And?”

"And... I'm going out with her next Saturday? Or at least I will be. When I tell her. She asked me because she has this—” Liam was babbling, but Zayn ignored the rest of what he was saying, staring at him in shock. A date? So it wasn't Harry after all. It was _Danielle_.

“Um. Zayn?”

Zayn took a deep breath and pasted a smirk on his face. _This is a good thing. I've been worried about getting too attached anyway. This is a good thing._

“Well good for you then. See, casual works for the both of us.” He put an arm around Liam, gripping his shoulder tightly. “I don't get why you were so worried. But in the future, you don't have to tell me about your dates. In fact, you probably shouldn't.”

Liam blanched. “No. That's not—” He let out a weak chuckle. “I'm not doing a great job explaining this am I?”

Gently, he stepped out of Zayn's embrace. “Zayn—”

Zayn's arm fell back down, dangling at his side awkwardly. He stared at it with a dumb expression, an odd feeling building in his chest. There was something he was missing. Something right on the edge of his mind…

_Oh. He's breaking up with me._ There was a sudden lurch as Zayn's feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

“—I can't do this anymore—” Liam was still talking, but Zayn was just staring out, concentrating on keeping his breathing even.

_In._

“—I'm sorry, I know you told me how this was going to work—”

_Out._

_He can't break up with you. You're not his boyfriend._

“I guess we just want different things.”

Zayn sucked in a sharp breath and slowly tucked the mess inside him—hurt, anger, confusion—away. He shut it down until all that was left was a calm and cold indifference.  He let out a slow breath. Adjusted his jacket. Looked at Liam.

“Well I can't say I'm all that surprised.” Zayn started walking again, Liam trailing after him. He felt more like himself than he had in weeks. “You always did say you were straight. Guess now you have a girl to prove it.”

Liam gaped at him a moment, stopping, but Zayn kept sauntering on like he hadn't noticed. Liam's mouth snapped shut and he rushed to catch up.

“Huh? You know that's not true.  I was sort of unsure at the beginning, but you can't hold that against me.”

Zayn made a noncommittal noise. “So what, did Dayna—”

“Danielle.”

“—not like the idea of having to share?”

Liam’s jaw clenched. “No _I_ didn't.”

“Ah. That's right. I forgot, Liam Payne and his moral high ground.”

“It's not about morals.” Liam shot him an exasperated look. “Come on Zayn I'm tired of feeling like an idiot or a liar every time someone asks me who you are and I have say my “friend”—we are obviously not just friends. I want—” He huffed, his shoulders slumping. “I don't want that.”

Zayn's mouth tightened and he shook his head. “Liam, a few months ago you were straight and now you want to be boyfriends? You don’t waste any time do you?”

Liam rolled his eyes. “I don't see why—”

Zayn stopped abruptly and spun around to face him. “You don't see why? Are you completely mental? We'd be horrible together. We could barely stand each other when we met. We're nothing alike!”

Zayn wrinkled his nose, giving him a dismissive once-over. “So why don't you go back to being the golden boy who never breaks the rules and _definitely_ does not make out with boys. And I'll keep being the poor little lost cause that drinks too much and talks too little and fucks anything that walks. Okay?”

Zayn stared at Liam furiously, his breathing a little harsher. He hadn't realized he'd gotten so angry.

Liam wasn't saying anything. A part of Zayn was glad ( _good let him see how delusional he is_ ), but another part wished he would say something, anything. That he would lash out and push back the way Zayn knew he could.

But Liam kept his mouth firmly shut. Instead he regarded Zayn with a look he couldn't read and then his eyes flicked away as he slowly resumed walking.

Zayn followed him a second later and they didn't say a word the entire way back. After meeting up with the others, Zayn watched Liam leave with a particular sort of satisfaction in his chest. It felt cold and sharp, but at least that he could handle.

_See? Nothing to worry about._

_This is a good thing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles* 
> 
> thanks for reading! xoxo


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give me another couple chapters and things will start looking up ;)

“Is this going to be a habit now?” was the first thing out of Harry's mouth when Louis showed up on his doorstep Sunday afternoon.

Louis grinned. “Hazza, I'm wounded. Someone might think you didn't want to see me.”

Harry smiled back, leaning against the door frame. “Never.” He backed up and let Louis inside the flat.

Louis tried to seem nonchalant as he took a quick glance around. “Nick still here?”

Harry rolled his eyes and headed towards the living room. “Went home yesterday.” He flopped down, lying along the length of the sofa.

Louis knew his dislike of Nick frustrated Harry. Louis didn't mean to act so catty around him, but he couldn't help it—just thinking about thinking about Nick made Louis' insides twist with something unpleasant.

Louis followed Harry to the sofa. “So I was thinking—” He lifted Harry's legs and slid underneath them.

“Always dangerous.”

Louis pursed his lips. “Hush Harold, before I regret coming over here.” Harry smirked and settled his legs into a more comfortable position on Louis' lap. “Anyway, I've noticed that we've been severely lacking in our Harry-Louis time lately.”

Harry laughed in surprise. “What are you on about? We see each other every day. We're always hanging out.”

“No, we”—Louis motioned between the two of them—“do not always hang out. There's always somebody else around.”

Harry was peering him curiously. “And something is wrong with that?”

“No. It's, I don't know, I kind of miss hanging out with only you sometimes.” For the first time since he arrived, Louis' confidence faltered and he opted to look down rather than at Harry. “Think of it as friend bonding or whatever,” he muttered.

Louis could feel Harry's eyes on him as he tried not to fidget. This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be nervous. It was only Harry. There was nothing weird about missing him.

Louis pushed away the voice questioning why he wasn't aching to spend time with his new girlfriend. El was great, but Harry was still his friend and he'd known him longer anyway.

Louis gathered his courage to look over at Harry, who still hadn't said anything. Harry was giving him this fond sort of expression he reserved solely for Louis, which never failed to make Louis' stomach do flip-flops. They stared at each other like that for a moment before Louis swallowed and asked, “Well?”

Harry lay there, a hint of a smile on his face. “This is about Nick coming around, isn't it?”

“You're always with him!” Louis blurted out.

Harry laughed and shook his head at Louis, whose cheeks had pinkenked slightly. “I am not,” Harry said, sitting up and lifting his legs from Louis' lap. He tucked them underneath himself and scooted closer to Louis with a grin. “You just don't like it when all my attention isn't focused on you.”

Louis smiled back. “True.” He’d meant for it to sound flippant, but instead it came out a bit too sincere.

Harry blinked and his expression shifted for a second, but then he was looking away, eyeing the backpack Louis had brought with him. “So, what exactly are we doing in this Harry-Louis time?”

Louis tore his eyes away from Harry. “Anything you want.” He reached for the backpack with renewed enthusiasm and started rummaging through it. “I've got movies. Lots of movies. There's Mario Kart.” He paused. “Uh, make a pillow fort? I can't come up with all the great ideas here, Harry.” Louis abandoned his search. “Anyway, I've brought snacks. Popcorn, sweets, homemade chocolate-dipped coconut macaroons.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Macaroons? You brought homemade chocolate-coconut macaroons?”

“I brought the stuff to go in them?” Louis smiled innocently, hoping his puppy dog eyes were still as effective as always.

Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried and failed to keep a stern expression. “Oh I see. This is all an excuse to make me your personal chef.”

“Basically.”

“Fine.” Harry stood up. “Natalie is at the library. I have to call her and make sure it's alright.” He disappeared down the hall.

Louis drummed his fingers on the armrest, waiting for Harry to return. _Natalie likes me. She'll totally let me stay._ He chewed on his bottom lip. _Okay, she thinks I'm annoying, but still, it's probably an affectionate sort of annoyance._ Louis thought about that for a second before shrugging and starting to go through the DVDs.

_Well she adores Harry. So she'll have to put up with me._

Harry came back a few minutes later. “You're in luck. She's says it's fine, but if you break something she'll have you banned for a month.”

Louis shook his head. “You break _one_ glass coffee table. Who thought coffee tables should be made out of glass anyway? Irresponsible.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I'm never going to live that down am I?”

“Probably not, no.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Louis held up the DVD in his hand. “Dirty Dancing?”

+

“Operation Chocolatety-Coconutty Deliciousness was definitely a success,” Louis mumbled around a mouthful of warm macaroon. Harry murmured in agreement, sliding the last batch out of the oven. He dusted off his hands on his jeans and looked around the kitchen.

“Operation Teach Louis to Bake could've gone better though,” Harry said.

Harry had convinced Louis to help make the macaroons (“Baking is easier than regular cooking. Plus, there's a recipe and everything”). It hadn't been a _complete_ disaster—though most likely that was the result of Harry watching his every move.

“I thought I did pretty well. I even learned how to whisk.” Louis eyed some of the mess on the worktop. “Well. Kind of.” He hadn't quite grasped the concept of keeping the ingredients in their bowls and not scattered around the entire kitchen.

“Yeah. _After_ I figured out that you should never be within two feet of an electric mixer.”

Louis stifled a laugh by taking another macaroon and popping it into his mouth. “Your fault.”

“Ha.” Harry picked up one as well and bit into it. “Well my fault or not you're still helping clean. These may have come out okay, but the kitchen...not so much.” Gingerly he picked up an egg shell and dropped it into the rubbish bin.

Louis turned around in a circle, surveying the damage. Used mixing spoons were sitting on the counter, batter pooling underneath them. Most of the worktop was covered in a combination of flour, sugar, and shredded coconut.

How had they used so many bowls? And were those streaks of chocolate on the cupboards?

Louis looked at Harry with a hopeful smile. “Or we could watch another movie?”

“Oh really?” Harry tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “And leave me to suffer Nat's wrath alone? Nice try.” He tossed Louis a dishcloth. “Start wiping.”

Louis groaned, but did what he was told and started to clean the worktop while Harry collected the dirty dishes. They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, focused on their own tasks.

“So—” Harry cleared his throat. “How's Zayn?”

Louis paused, his shoulders tensing at the mention of the Friday night incident. Zayn hadn't exactly been in a sharing mood yesterday, but Louis had managed to pry the bare minimum of information out of him. He knew the gist—Liam had finally gotten tired of being only casual and apparently was dating someone else now.

Louis shrugged half-heartedly and grabbed a cleaning bottle, spraying down the worktop.

“Zayn is... Zayn.” He started wiping again, dragging the cloth around in slow circles. “Stoic. Not really talking.” Truth be told, Louis was worried. Zayn didn't always handle his more vulnerable emotions well.

He glanced over his shoulder. Harry was at the sink with his back to him, filling up a bowl with dish soap and water.

When it came to their friends' relationship he and Harry tended to dance around the topic or avoid it all together. It was kind of a sore spot. Louis knew Harry was only trying to protect his friend, but Louis was protective of Zayn too. He'd been hoping everything would smooth out on its own, but instead it’d exploded into an even bigger debacle.

Biting back a sigh, Louis went over to stand next to Harry and rinse out the dishcloth. “Liam?”

“He's alright, I guess.” Harry was chewing on his lower lip, staring into the soapy mixing bowl. “I mean, he says he's alright. But I dunno.”

Louis gave him a small, encouraging smile. “I'm sure he is. Or he will be.” He took the bowl from Harry and rinsed it off. “It's too bad they ended things though.”

Harry frowned as he reached for another dish. “Yeah but”—he dunked it in the soapy water—“it was never going to work.”

Louis' grip tightened around the bowl, his jaw tensing. “Why's that?” Carefully, he loosened his grip and put the bowl in the drying rack. When he turned back, Harry was staring at him with wide, imploring eyes.

“Don't be like that,” Harry said. "Please?"

Louis looked away and took another dish to rinse off. If his puppy dog eyes were good, Harry's were potent. Louis could never stay irritated for long.

“It's not Zayn,” Harry continued. “He's great. Liam really likes him.” He pressed closer to Louis as he went back to scrubbing. “But that's just it—Liam _really_ likes him.” Harry's brow furrowed. “Liked him.” His mouth twisted and he shot Louis a wry look. “Likes him.”

He shrugged. “And it never seemed like Zayn felt the same way.” He passed Louis a handful of soapy mixing spoons. “Especially with the whole 'I can shag anybody I want' deal. Liam...” Harry took a breath, still fidgeting with one of the spoons between his fingers. “Liam is very optimistic. And he doesn't always see when he's about to get hurt.”

Louis didn't say anything for a moment. Silently, he finished rinsing off the spoons. He knew Harry was trying to look out for his friend, but he didn't understand at all.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, it's alright.” Louis dropped the spoons in the drying rack before turning to face Harry. “But you're wrong.” He gave Harry a small grin and playfully flicked him with a bit of water to show he wasn't really upset. “It's not like that. Most of the time you've known Zayn, he was already with Liam. He wasn't always that way. He was happier after they got together.” He nudged Harry's shoulder and waggled his eyebrows. “And not only that 'I'm getting laid on a regular basis' happy.”

Harry let out a huff of laughter and Louis grinned, feeling more relaxed. He plucked the soapy spoon from Harry's grip and went back to rinsing.

“He and Liam just got each other. You've seen how Zayn pushes everyone out. I remember”—Louis shook his head fondly—”it took him ages to even let Niall and I be friends with him. He was pretty set on being a loner. But there was something about him. He seemed cool. And in desperate need of a friend. Between the two of us we wore him down.” He gave Harry an assuring look. “We were very persistent 10 year olds.”

Harry tsked. “Terrors, I bet.”

“Of course,” Louis replied as if it was offensive to believe otherwise.

Harry smiled and moved around him to grab a drying towel. “Okay,” he said, giving Louis a sidelong glance. “But it seemed like he was pushing Liam away too.”

Louis grabbed another towel to help out. “Yeah. It's hard for him, you know? He's got it in his head that he's not meant for relationships.” He looked Harry in the eye. “But he _really_ likes Liam. I think he's been avoiding being 'tied down' for so long he doesn't even realize that he might actually want to be Liam's boyfriend.” Louis eyed Harry until he was satisfied that he'd at least gotten through to him a little.

“In fact”—Louis tapped his chin, pretending to think—“I'm pretty sure Zayn wouldn't mind getting tied down by Liam in more ways than one.

Harry groaned and scrunched up his face.”Louis.” Louis dodged Harry as he tried to flick him with his towel. “That is not a mental image I need, thanks.”

Louis laughed. “Doesn't mean it's not true.”

Harry's hands flew to his ears and he shook his head. “What's that? I can't hear you.”

Louis smirked and started to dry the rest of the dishes. Harry narrowed his eyes at him. Louis hummed to himself and kept drying, pretending like he hadn't just been speculating on their friend's sex lives.

Slowly, Harry took his hands down from his ears and picked up his towel again, still watching Louis suspiciously. Louis held back a laugh as he took in Harry's reddened face out of the corner of his eye. _I wonder if I should tell him about Zayn's handcuffs..._

“Aw. You two look so domestic.”

Louis and Harry both startled and turned to see Natalie watching them from the kitchen entrance. They hadn't even heard her come in.

“Hey," Harry said.

Natalie gave him a quick peck on the forehead. “Hello love.” She turned to Louis, her gaze sharpening. “Tomlinson. My flat still intact?”

Louis beamed at her. He'd win her over eventually. He always did. “Of course. We've been perfect angels. And it's lovely to see you as always, Natalie. Have you missed me?”

Natalie gave him a deadpan look. “You'd actually have to leave for me to miss you, Louis.”

Louis rested his head on Harry's shoulder with a pout.”But it's been days.” He poked Harry in the ribs, making him jerk and slap at Louis' fingers. “Tell her, Haz.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “ _Days_ ,” Harry repeated, his voice solemn.

“You two are ridiculous.” Natalie sniffed and glanced around the kitchen. “I take it from the dishes and the smell there was baking…” She looked expectantly at Harry, who detached himself from Louis and uncovered the tray of macaroons. Natalie’s eyes lit up. She took one and bit into it, making appreciative noises.

“These are fantastic.” She nodded to Louis. “I'll give you one thing, you somehow always manage to convince Harry to make the most delicious food.”

Louis shrugged, leaning against the worktop. “It's the Tomlinson charm. No one can resist it.”

“No, I'm pretty sure Harry is just a push-over.”

“Hey”—Harry frowned and moved the tray out of her reach—“no insulting the baker or else no more cookies for you.”

“Okay, okay.” She snagged a few more macaroons. “I'll be in my room if you need anything.” She cast a distrustful look in Louis' direction. “I know quiet isn't exactly your forte, but could you both at least try to keep it down?”  She paused on her way out and gestured to Harry. “By the way your hair is covered in flour.”

Harry cursed under his breath and touched his hair, scowling when his palm came away white.

“Language,” Natalie called over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

Harry bent his head, both hands reaching towards his hair.

Louis' eyes widened at the tell-tale signs of a signature Harry hair shake coming on. He let out an involuntary noise of horror and slid in front of him, arms spread wide. “Oh no, not over my clean worktop.”

Harry peeked at him through the curls that had fallen in front of his face. “You'd make an excellent housewife,” he mumbled, pushing around him to lean over the sink.

“Damn right I would.”

Louis watched him shake out his hair until all (most) of the flour was gone.

Harry stood, fixing his fringe before looking to Louis for approval. “Good?”

Louis tilted his head, studying him. He reached out and brushed his fingers through Harry's curls, moving them around a bit. His hair was fine, but Louis never passed up a chance to touch it whenever he could.

He gave Harry a soft smile. “There.” His eyes flickered up and down, taking Harry in. “Perfect.” A faint flush appeared on Harry's cheeks as he looked away. Louis’ smile widened. _He's always so bad at taking compliments._

“What's next?” Harry asked. He took a step back. “Mario Kart maybe?” He glanced towards the living room and Louis caught sight of a smudge of chocolate hiding under his jaw.

“Wait, you've got a bit of—” He made a vague pointing gesture at Harry's face.

Harry frowned. “What? Where?” He ducked his head, looking down as if he could see under his own chin. “I don't get how I'm the one with stuff all over me when you're the one who made the mess.”

Louis stepped forward and cupped Harry's chin, pulling it upwards. “Just hold still.” Using his thumb, Louis swiped off the bit of melted chocolate. He floundered a moment, looking for where they’d dropped the towels before his eyes landed on Harry again.

Harry, who was still staring at Louis' outstretched thumb, his lips parted and a peculiar expression on his face.

Louis frowned and glanced from his thumb back to Harry—who was now staring straight at him.

Harry's jaw clenched and he jerked away to grab the towel that was behind him on the worktop. He shoved it into Louis' hands.

Louis swallowed in an attempt to make his mouth feel less dry and rubbed his thumb clean with the towel.

“So. Mario Kart?” Harry asked, starting towards the living room.

Louis stayed where he was. He was scratching the back of his neck and still trying to decipher the uncomfortable feeling currently twisting in his stomach.

“You still owe me that rematch from last time at Niall's,” Harry said before realizing Louis wasn't following him. “Lou?” he asked, turning back.

Louis wondered if he was imagining the slight waver in Harry's voice. “Mario Kart. Right.” He caught up with Harry and threw an arm around his shoulder as he guided them both out of the kitchen. “Don't know why you're bothering with a rematch, you know I'm gonna kick your arse just as badly as last time.”

+

Louis was pretty sure he'd never sucked this badly at Mario Kart before. Or any videogame for that matter. He grimaced as he narrowly avoided slamming into a wall. Harry, on the other hand, was already way ahead of him. It probably had something to do with how Harry was actually concentrating on the game, unlike Louis, who'd been distracted since they left the kitchen. Still, Louis couldn't entirely bring himself to care about how he was probably about to lose for the third time in a row.

Because Harry was acting weird.

Or wasn't acting weird?

Louis couldn't tell. He cast another sidelong look at Harry.

First of all, Harry was way too engrossed in the game for Louis' liking. Louis was beginning to think he might need a better handle on his jealousy issues. It was one thing for Harry to joke about him hating when he didn't have all of Harry's attention—it was another when his resentment started to include inanimate objects.

Second of all, Harry was too far away. They'd both opted for sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, but somehow Harry had ended up practically on the other side of the room.

Louis didn't bother hiding his sigh and mashed a few buttons on his controller.

He might've been exaggerating. It was probably a “normal” distance for some people. But Louis liked his friends close. Liked Harry close. Within easy reaching distance at least.

Louis pouted and turned his attention back to game—just in time to see himself lose. _Great_.

Harry tossed the controller on the sofa, giving Louis a smug smile. “What was that you were saying again? Something about how you were gonna kick my arse?”

Louis pouted even more and tried to act like he wasn't giddy with happiness to have Harry focusing on him again. “You're having a lucky day.”

Harry cocked his head to the side. “Three times in a row is not luck.”

Scowling, Louis grabbed a pillow from the sofa and chucked it at him. “Oh shut up.”

Harry clutched the pillow to his stomach, laughing. “It's kind of embarrassing.”

“Now you're asking for it.” With a war cry Louis launched himself at Harry, grabbing another pillow off the sofa as he attacked. The two wrestled around for a few seconds, pillows flailing. Eventually, Louis managed to get the upper hand, straddling Harry's thighs to hold him down.

Harry was still trying to shove a pillow in Louis’ face. Louis yanked it away and threw it across the room with another shout of triumph. He leaned forward, grabbing Harry's upper arms and pinning them with his weight. Harry struggled for a moment, but he was laughing too hard to put up a real fight.

Louis reined in his own laughter and raised his eyebrows, staring down at him.

“Alright,” Harry said. He was still a little breathless. “You win.”

Louis grinned and ruffled Harry's hair with one hand. “That's what I like to hear.”

“Boys!” Natalie called from inside her room. Louis let go of Harry, sitting up and glancing down the hall. “All that noise better be coming from the game and not the sound of you wrecking my living room.” There may have been a muttered “again” but Louis couldn't be sure.

Louis turned back at the same moment Harry tried to sit up and they both stopped short to avoid their heads colliding. Whatever Louis had been about to say died in his throat as he realized how close they were to each other.

It had already been established that Louis was used to being rather close to Harry—but not always this close. Close enough that he could probably count each one of Harry's eyelashes. Close enough that he could feel Harry's warm breath ghosting across his lips.

Speaking of lips...

Louis' gaze dropped down to Harry's mouth; his lips were slightly parted. _And very pink._

_…and getting closer?_

Louis wasn't sure if he had moved or Harry had, but they were definitely closer and Louis could feel the breath between them getting warmer and wetter.

Louis' heart was beating too fast and the sound of it was thudding in his ears. There should've been a flare of panic by now, but instead he only felt a spark of anticipation.

Harry inhaled sharply.

Louis startled at the sound and his eyes flitted upwards to meet Harry's bright green ones.

Abruptly, Harry's hands were grasping at his shoulders and he was pulling Louis, no—pushing Louis. Louis frowned, feeling confused and a little dazed as Harry pushed at his shoulders, tugging his legs from underneath Louis and moving backwards.

Harry avoided Louis' eyes, his hair obscuring part of his face. Louis could still tell his cheeks were flushed though. Harry's mouth opened as if to say something, but instead Natalie's voice called out.

“A pillow fight? Really?” Louis looked over to see Natalie standing in the living room. “It's amazing how many times I have to remind you two that you're not actually eight year-old girls at a slumber party.” She crossed her arms, staring down at them with an amused expression on her face.

Louis didn't bother to muster up a quick comeback to that and opted to stare at the carpet instead. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around himself, feeling strangely cold.

“Louis, did you let your mobile die again?” Natalie asked. “Your mum has been trying to ring you.”

Louis shifted his focus from the floor to Natalie. He stared up at her blankly.

She sighed. “Well she rang me when she couldn't reach you. She needs you home. And by that she means now and not later. And by now she means _immediately_. Her words, not mine. Your mum is kind of intimidating sometimes.”

Louis got up from the floor. “I know." He glanced towards Harry, who had already stood and was edging toward the kitchen.

“You can get your stuff together,” Harry said. “I'm going to get some macaroons so you can take them home with you.”

Natalie went back to her room and by the time Louis had finished gathering his belongings from the living room, Harry had returned from the kitchen.

He thrust a tupperware container into Louis' hands and opened the front door.

“Okay, well, this was fun,” Harry said. He was smiling, but Louis still felt off kilter even as he stepped out of the flat. “See you tomorrow.”

Louis gave him a curious look, trying to catch his eye, but Harry was already closing the door.

“Yeah—” Louis said.

The door closed.

“—see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading and your comments/kudos! xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more angst as promised :(  
> but now we've got nowhere to go but up! :D

Harry drummed his fingers along the counter, glancing around the crowded coffee shop. He'd volunteered to wait for their drinks while Louis and Eleanor tried to find a table. Niall was running late and Zayn said he might show up, but they all knew he probably wouldn't.

Zayn had been flakier than normal these past two weeks—i.e. ever since he and Liam had broken up, which also happened to be the same weekend of The Incident, which in Harry's opinion definitely deserved capitalization.

Harry spotted Louis and Eleanor at a table in the corner. Louis looked up, of course, because he could always sense when Harry's eyes were on him. He gave Harry a small smile before drifting back into whatever conversation he and Eleanor were having.

Apparently, Louis did not share Harry's opinion because things between them had been completely normal ever since said Incident (Harry was refusing to call it 'that time Louis and I almost kissed' because doing so tended to make his heart do funny things and induce a large amount of guilt).

Things should've been weird. They should’ve been horribly awkward. But that Monday at school Louis acted as if nothing had happened. As if Harry hadn't tried to jump one of his best friends, who already knew about his crush (which Harry had supposedly gotten over weeks ago).

Harry kept waiting for the other shoe to drop for days until he reluctantly accepted that it wasn't going to happen. He’d started to wonder if he'd made the entire thing up in his head. Or at least exaggerated it. Had Louis really noticed nothing? Or was he just trying to spare Harry's feelings?

_How could he not have noticed?_

Harry kept replaying that moment over and over again. There were times, usually when he was half-asleep with his guard down, that Harry was convinced he hadn't been the only one leaning forward. And that Louis had looked sort of disappointed when Harry had pulled away.

The barista set down two cups in front of him. “Large vanilla latte and a medium black tea.”

Pushing himself off the wall, he took them and made his way towards the table. Louis and Eleanor murmured their thanks when Harry put down their drinks and he went back to the counter to wait for the last one.

Harry pulled out his mobile, trying not to glance back at the table. It was already getting more difficult to be around the “happy couple” and Harry didn't need such delusions in his head.  They would only lead him down a long path of ‘what ifs’—and Harry was pretty sure that road ended in regret.

He typed out a quick text to Liam.

_Hey what's up?_

**R u sure about blue? What about red??? Help me :( :(**

Harry smiled to himself. Liam was going out with Danielle tonight. Their first date had gone well and afterwards Liam had worked up the courage to ask her out again.

_The dark blue shirt for sure. And go light on the cologne._

**:P k thnxxx**

He seemed to be handling things well. At least better than Zayn. Liam couldn't stop talking about “Dani” and how perfect she was. Harry said he was happy for him, but he also wasn't entirely convinced. Usually Liam was a pretty shit liar, but if there was one thing he was good at it was making people think he was fine when he wasn't.

“Medium hot chocolate.”

Harry took his drink and typed out a quick _“Good luck! xx”_ to Liam before heading back to the table.

_That's odd._ The happy couple didn't seem so happy at the moment. Harry looked on curiously as he approached. They were arguing about something.

Louis and Eleanor fell silent as he sat down. _Okay_. Harry sipped his drink, pretending not to notice the tension in the air. _Something they don't want me to know about then._

“So...” He glanced between the two of them. Louis was frowning, almost glaring at Eleanor, who was actually looking at Harry with this intense glint in her eye. “Any sign of Niall yet?”

“No,” Eleanor said. The table fell into silence again. Harry had another sip of his drink and tried not to stare at either one of them. _What’s going on?_

“Harry”—sometimes Harry hated how his name sounded in Eleanor's mouth—“you're going to the party tomorrow night, right?”

Louis' jaw clenched noticeably. “El.”

Eleanor ignored him, keeping her eyes on Harry.

“Yeah. I suppose.”

Eleanor gave him a wide smile. “Great! So listen, a friend of mine is coming. Holli?  And I think you two would really get along.” Louis crossed his arms with a sigh. Eleanor kept ignoring him and leaned forward a bit. “She's cute too, I promise. And I was thinking I could introduce you to her at the party?”

Harry set down his drink. “You mean like a set up?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah.”

Harry sipped from his hot chocolate. “Sure.” He shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”

Eleanor's eyes widened and she smiled brightly. Louis uncrossed his arms and was just sort of gaping at him.

“Really?” she asked.

Harry shifted in his seat. “Uh, yes?”

Eleanor looked like she wanted to actually reach over the table and hug him.

Harry leaned back in his chair just in case.

“Great! She's awesome, you'll love her.” She took a sip of her latte, smiling to herself.

Louis, on the other hand, was staring at Harry like he had no idea who he was. Louis opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it. “You don't have to do this," he said finally.

Eleanor's eyes narrowed at him as she took a deliberate swallow of her drink.

Harry gave him a half smile. “Nah, it’s fine. Not the first time I've been set up anyway.” He glanced at Eleanor who was still looking at him like Christmas had come early. “It'll be fun.”

Okay _fun_ was probably an exaggeration. But at least it would take his mind off his ill-advised feelings. Who knew, this Holli girl could actually be great. Or at least she might be hot and Harry could get some action out of it.

Harry sat back to enjoy his hot chocolate. He already felt lighter. Maybe this _would_ be fun.

Even with most of his attention focused on Louis, going from getting laid practically every week this summer to cold turkey had taken its toll. He needed to remember that there were other people out there besides Louis—people that were actually interested in him. It might even stop him from doing something stupid like reading too much into Louis' expression right now (which Harry wanted to call sad and betrayed).

Louis remained sort of subdued until Niall came. Harry almost asked him if El setting him up was really that much of a problem, but he chickened out. Honestly, Harry was afraid that if he brought it up and Louis asked him not to do it, Harry wouldn't be able to tell him no.

Harry replayed their almost kiss in his head for what felt like the hundredth time.

And he needed this. He needed to finally get over Louis.

+

After begging off early from the coffee shop, Harry went back to the flat, fully intending to spend the rest of his Friday night relaxing by himself. He did the usual—watched TV for a bit, ate dinner with Nat, attempted to be responsible by getting an early start on his reading for class, but actually ended up just messing about on Facebook and being sucked into a Youtube loop. Then he threw on his pyjamas early, grabbed some kettlecorn, and curled up on his bed to browse Netflix.

He hadn't gotten too far into an episode of _Doctor Who_ when he heard knocking coming from the front door. It was sort of late, but maybe Natalie invited people over and hadn't mentioned it. Except that wasn't really like her.

“Harry!”

Harry perked up and paused the episode as he heard Natalie call for him. He frowned, but dutifully left his bed to go to the living room. _What does she want with me?_

Harry stopped short. Natalie was standing by the front door. Next to her was Liam.

“Liam?” Harry glanced back and forth between them. Natalie seemed worried, which was never a good sign. Liam was staring at the floor, looking at little lost.

“Did you know he was coming over?” Natalie asked. “He's just...” She waved her hand at Liam in a helpless motion. Harry moved closer. Liam didn't seem hurt. Not physically at least. He just looked sort of blank.

“What's the matter?” Harry asked. He wanted to ask why Liam was here, but he was afraid Liam would take it as a sign that Harry didn't want him here. “Are you okay?”

Liam shrugged.

Harry's frown deepened.

_Okay. So that's a no. Why is he in Haslington? Isn't he supposed to be—_

Harry paused.  “Didn't you have a date with Danielle tonight?”

Liam finally glanced up and nodded. “Yeah.”

Harry's shoulders relaxed some. _This_ _is probably about Danielle. Well, Zayn and Danielle._

“It's fine,” Harry said. He stepped closer to Liam, shielding him from Natalie, who was still staring at him like he might fall apart at any second. “He's going to stay here for a bit though, if that's okay.”

Natalie nodded and peered around Harry to look at Liam. “Do your parents know you're here, Liam?” Liam shook his head, his gaze dropping away again.

Harry blew out a breath. Liam must've been in some kind of state to come all the way here without letting someone know.

Harry started to move Liam towards his room. “It's alright”—Harry was trying to reassure Natalie with his eyes—“I'll call them.” Natalie nodded and sat back down on the sofa, seemingly mollified and the two of them went inside Harry's room.

Liam slipped off his shoes and curled up on the bed next to Harry's laptop.

Harry hit play and grabbed his mobile off his desk. “I, uh, was watching _Doctor Who.”_ Liam said nothing. Harry waved his mobile, inching towards the door. “I'm going to call your parents.”

Liam nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. Harry sighed and left the room, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the wall, he called Liam's home number and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hi Harry,” Mrs. Payne said. Harry could hear noise in the background, like she was cleaning the kitchen. He must've been on speakerphone. “How are you?”

“Fine. Um, Liam...”

“Liam isn't here right now, I'm afraid. He's got a date.” She sounded excited about it. “He should be home soon though—”

“No,” Harry interjected. “I mean, Liam's here. With me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Are you in Holmes Chapel?”

“No. He's here at the flat. In Haslington.”

She picked up the phone, abruptly sounding closer. “What happened?”  Her voice started to rise in panic. “Is he okay? Why didn't he call?”

“No, he's fine,” Harry said quickly. “He's just a bit...out of it?” Harry glanced at his closed bedroom door, thinking of the expression on Liam's face. “I think he needs a friend right now.”

“Oh.”

“Is it okay if—”

“This is about that Zayn boy isn't it?”

Harry winced inwardly. Liam had never exactly given his parents any specifics about him and Zayn. He liked to think they didn't know what was going on, but he’d always been pretty bad at hiding things from them. Between his bright red face and sheepish looks and Zayn's general smugness, his parents probably had gotten the picture.

Really Liam should’ve figured out they knew when they started making him leave the door open whenever Zayn was over, but Liam liked to live in denial sometimes.

As for his parents, they'd never really taken to Zayn. Harry didn't know if it was the being a guy thing, or the hiding thing, or because they saw Zayn as the poster child for “future juvenile delinquent”. Maybe all three. But they hadn't stopped Liam from seeing him, which to Harry meant they were at least accepting it in some manner.

“Yeah," Harry responded softly. "I think so."

There was another pause.

“Fine,” she said. “He can stay. But he has to call me first thing in the morning, okay Harry?”

Harry agreed and ended the call. Liam was still in the same position when he returned. Harry joined him on the bed, lying close so that they could cuddle.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Liam glanced over at him. “Not yet.”

“Okay.” He didn't push it. Liam would talk when he was ready.

They watched a few more episodes even though neither one of them were really paying attention. When it got late Harry found him a spare toothbrush and something to sleep in.

Liam still hadn't told him what was going on by the time they curled up in bed to go to sleep.

“What happened?” Harry asked softly. It was easier to talk about things in the dark.

Liam was quiet, his head buried in Harry's shoulder. Just as Harry thought he'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out what was going on Liam started talking.

“Dani's perfect, you know? I mean she's gorgeous and she's smart and she likes me. _Me_.” Liam shifted away from Harry, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling. “Did you know her coach thinks she has a real chance at making it as a professional dancer?"

“No.” Harry waited for Liam to say something else, but when he didn't Harry pressed a bit. “I take it the date didn’t go so well then?”

Liam let out a short laugh. It sounded dry and bitter. “The date went fine. Great even. We saw a movie, we held hands, we talked about everything, and at the end I stood on her front steps and kissed her on the cheek.”

Liam inhaled, his body tensing.

“And then I told her she was wonderful and I had a good time, but I didn't think this was going to work out and we shouldn't go out anymore.” Liam blinked and turned on his side to face Harry.

“Then I left. And I came here.”

Harry scooted closer so Liam could curl up against him again.

“I kept comparing them,” Liam said into his chest. “Everything she did, everything she said. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh. All I could think about was him.”

Liam shook his head. “I'm out with this beautiful girl, who've I've been dreaming about since I was 13, and I didn't even care.” Harry stroked Liam's hair as he clutched at Harry's shirt.

“I didn't even _care_ ,” Liam repeated in disbelief, his voice wavering.

Harry made calming, sympathetic noises and Liam lay on his chest, his breath becoming more ragged. They stayed like that for what seemed like ages, neither one of them able to drop off to sleep.

Liam mumbled something into Harry's shirt.

“Hmm?”

“I promised.” His words were barely audible. Harry wasn't sure if Liam was even talking to him. “I promised myself. I wasn't supposed to feel this way.”

Harry held onto him, pretending he couldn't feel the dampness on his shirt.

“This wasn't supposed to happen.”

“I know,” Harry murmured. He rested his head on top of Liam's.

“Why do I have to ruin everything?” His voice sounded broken and hollow. “Why couldn't it have been enough?”

Harry's grip around him tightened. “You wanted more,” Harry said. “You deserved more.”

“He didn't think so.”

Harry felt his stomach drop and he floundered for something to say. Liam, however, turned around, putting his back to Harry as he curled up on his side. The conversation was over.

Harry bit his lip, feeling helpless. Liam had always been better at comforting people. Harry didn't know how to handle this. He couldn't fix this.

With a sigh Harry turned as well, keeping his arms around Liam and tucking his head into the back of Liam's neck.

He didn't mention the slight tremble in Liam’s shoulders, but Harry pressed closer and hoped he could sense everything Harry wanted to tell him.

Eventually, it stopped and Liam's breath evened out. Harry drifted off not too long after.

+

Liam wasn't in bed when Harry woke up the next morning. Harry groaned and rolled over, glancing at his clock. Well maybe more like afternoon.

He got out of bed and wandered toward the kitchen. Liam was there, filling a glass with orange juice. He looked up as Harry entered.

“Hey. I thought I heard you getting up.” He put the glass on the table and pushed a covered plate towards Harry. “I, uh, made breakfast earlier? I didn't want to wake you but, um”—Liam held out a fork and sat across from him—“it should still be warm.” He ducked his head, his hands moving restlessly as Harry uncovered the plate and started eating.

“Thanks,” Harry said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. He swallowed. “Aren't you going to have some?”

Liam shook his head. “I ate earlier.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. “How long have you been up?”

Liam shrugged. He was avoiding Harry's gaze. “Awhile. I went for a run. I borrowed some clothes, I hope that's okay. And then I called my mum, and I made breakfast, and I apologized to Natalie for showing up last night and I guess I should apologize to you too—”

“Liam.”

Liam stopped, biting his bottom lip as if to hold back the flood of words that wanted to rush out.

“You don't have to apologize,” Harry said. “You can always come here, you know that.”

Liam gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Harry made small talk for awhile, waiting until he'd finished eating to bring up last night. “I guess everything hasn't been as great as you told me.” He pushed his plate aside and pinned Liam with a serious look.

Liam hesitated, his mouth parted.

“Honestly this time.”

Liam's mouth snapped closed. He stood and took Harry's plate and fork over to the sink. “Yeah, okay.” His back was to Harry as he washed the dishes and put them in the drying rack. “I guess I was taking it harder than I told you. But I thought... I thought it would blow over.”

Liam's hands were braced against the worktop, his back still to him. “I might've missed him some. But I didn't want to. So.” He took a breath and faced Harry again. “I pretended.” He attempted a smile. “It's fine.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but he held Harry's gaze. “It will be. Promise. I just need more time.”

Harry regarded him for a moment. “You don't have to hide things from me,” he said finally.

Liam gave him another tentative smile and came back to the table. “I know.” His hands seemed restless again. “Would it be alright if I stayed here another night?” he asked. “My mum is already asking questions”—his eyes flickered away and his voice lowered—“and I don't want to go home yet.”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry grinned. “We can act like we're six again and having a sleepover.”

Liam rolled his eyes and returned Harry's grin. “I'm pretty sure we were still having sleepovers just last year.”

“This is true.” Harry pushed away from the table, standing up. “Come on, we’ll start off with Saturday morning cartoons.”

Liam followed him out of the kitchen. “I don't think almost noon can classify as 'morning' anymore.”

They both flopped down on the sofa. "We'll find something," Harry said, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels.

“How's Zayn been?”

Harry tensed and he glanced over at Liam, who was resolutely staring at the tv. “Liam.” Harry drew the vowels out in reproach.

Liam turned away from the tv to face him. “I know, but it's so _weird_ , never seeing him anymore.” His eyes widened and Harry was sure he saw the beginnings of a pout. “I just want to know. Please?”

Harry sighed and muted the television. “He's been fine.”

“Oh.” Liam seemed torn between disappointment and trying to appear happy. “Really?”

Harry's lips tightened. “Christ, Liam. No, not really.” He gave him a disbelieving look. “He's been miserable and pretty much taking it out on everyone else.”

Liam blinked, seemingly not sure how to take this information either.

“I mean he was never exactly chatty with me in the first place, but now he barely says anything at all. He sits there and looks all scowly.” Harry slumped back against the sofa.

He glanced at Liam again, biting his bottom lip. “Actually, Louis is worried about him.” Harry's voice softened. “We all are. You've seen how trashed Zayn can get when he goes out. But lately he's _always_ out and every time is like that. One of us tries to be there, to look out for him and make sure he isn't passed out somewhere, but sometimes... There's only so much we can do.”

Liam made a sad noise, moving closer to Harry. “That's awful.”

“Yeah, well.” Harry glanced away.

“Is he—” Liam hesitated. “I mean, is there—”

“Is there someone else?”

Liam nodded.

“Yes.” Harry saw Liam fight to keep his face neutral, but he wasn't very successful. “And no," Harry continued. "He's been hooking up a lot. Guys mostly.”

Liam swallowed. “Well. Good then. That's what he said he wanted.”

Harry lay a hand on Liam's shoulder. “He might've said that, but if that's what he really wanted he wouldn't be this miserable all the time, would he? Besides, he could've done all this and still been with you. That was the arrangement. But he never touched anyone else until you two split up.”

“What are you trying to say, Harry?” Liam spoke the words slowly, his shoulders tensing under Harry's hand.

“I'm saying that, yeah, there's been other people, but no one like _you_. No one he actually keeps around or talks about. I didn't say anything because you said you were happy. But Louis has known Zayn a lot longer than we have and he thinks Zayn is scared. He's never done the whole relationship thing. He's running away from it because that's what he's used to.”

Harry was trying to gauge Liam's reaction, but Liam was still staring away with a blank expression. Harry sighed. “And after these two weeks, I think I agree. He's a _mess_. And obviously you're not holding up so well either.”

Liam didn't respond.

Harry tried not to fidget. “Liam?” he asked tentatively.

Slowly, Liam looked back towards Harry. “You're the one who told me to talk to Zayn in the first place.” His voice was low and angry.  “ _You're_ the one who told me I shouldn't stay. And now you're trying to tell me I should go back to him?”

“No. I'm just saying that there's more to it than I thought before—”

“Oh right, because _Louis_ said.”

Harry recoiled. That stung. “Liam.”

Liam's jaw tightened and he looked away again. “ _Harry_.”

Harry pulled away from Liam with another sigh and drew his legs up to tuck underneath himself. “I meant what I said before. I still do. You didn't want what Zayn was offering.  But I only thought you should have all of the information.”

Liam grunted uncommunicatively. He picked up the remote from where Harry had dropped it and unmuted the tv.

Harry reluctantly turned towards the television as well. It wasn't until about ten minutes later when he heard a quiet “I'll think about it” from Liam that the tension in him finally loosened and he relaxed into the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will Liam do with this new information? Is Harry really giving up on Louis? 
> 
> Next time on The Art of Wishful Thinking ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this extra long chapter makes up for the wait ;)

It didn't take long for Liam's anger toward Harry to wane. He knew Harry was his best friend and his Louis' worship aside, he would never purposely give him bad advice. Even so, Liam felt conflicted. He couldn't reconcile the Zayn Harry described with the one from that night. Zayn had made himself very clear—he thought the idea of being in a relationship with Liam was ridiculous.

It'd hurt, but Liam had been determined to move on. He'd started dating Danielle and pushed away all thoughts of Zayn until he'd almost convinced himself he was over him. But then last night happened. She was smiling up at him, all happy and gorgeous, but he couldn't do it. He didn't want her.

Next thing he knew, he was apologizing and her face was falling and she looked so confused and sad... he left before he could do anymore damage. Somehow he ended up at Harry's. He hadn't even thought about it really, only that he knew Harry was always the one to make him feel better. And Liam was tired of pretending he was okay.

A buzz from Harry's mobile pulled Liam from of his thoughts. He watched Harry's face fall as he read whatever was on it.

“What?”

Harry clutched the mobile tighter. “Nothing.”

“It doesn't seem like nothing.”

Harry shrugged. “Don't worry about it.” He was trying to seem nonchalant, but Liam could read the slight panic on his face.

Liam frowned. That seemed like something he needed to worry about.

Harry glanced down at his mobile. “Er, I'm just gonna—”

Liam leaned over and plucked the mobile out Harry's hand.

“Liam, don't really, it's—”

 **From:** Eleanor

**hey! we’re here. hols can wait to meet you ;) txt me when u get here**

“—nothing.”

Liam let Harry tug the phone out of his hands. “Who's Hols?”

“Holli. A friend of Eleanor's. Yesterday she asked me if she could set me up with a friend of hers tonight and I sort of agreed.”

Liam's mouth twitched. “You what?”

Harry rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh shut up. I’m not that desperate. Or I am. I only—” He broke off with a sigh. “She asked and I thought it would be a good idea to get my mind off Louis.

Liam sobered at that. He knew all too well what that was like, being desperate enough to try anything to get over someone.

“I completely forgot. I'll text her and say something came up.”

Liam pulled a face. “And stand up her friend? No, you should go.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I'm staying here.”

“Harry, go. You've been here all day with me moping around. I can survive a few hours without you.”

Harry still looked reluctant so Liam started to push him off the sofa. “Go. I'm probably going to bed soon anyway.”

Harry glanced at his phone and then back at Liam. “Alright. If you're sure.”

Liam nodded, relieved. He'd feel horrible if Harry stayed home because of him.

“I should probably already be there,” Harry said, standing up. “Text me if you want, okay? It's just over at Niall's in case you want to come.”

Liam gave him a deadpan look. A party at Niall's meant Zayn and anywhere near Zayn was exactly the last place Liam wanted to be.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, well, just in case.” He disappeared into his room to go change clothes and returned a few minutes later, Liam waving off the last of his concerns before he left.

Liam tapped his fingers against the remote, trying to get re-invested in the episode of _Friends_ they’d been watching. Now that Harry had gone however, he had even less of a distraction from thinking about Zayn. He couldn't help but wonder if what Harry said had any truth to it. He'd spent the last two weeks thinking Zayn wanted nothing to do with him and finding out that it might be the opposite was making his head spin.

Liam sighed and twisted round on the sofa in an attempt to get comfortable.

What if Louis and Harry were right though? Was Zayn lying to him? Had he only been pretending he wasn't interested? Was he really only too stubborn and scared to admit he wanted more?

Liam gave up on trying to find a comfortable position and got up, turning off the tv. He started to pace around the room, the remote still clutched in his hand.

Logically, he knew there was a chance. From the beginning it was obvious Zayn didn’t let people in easily. And there had been clues. Ones that Liam ignored because he hadn't wanted to assume. He hadn't wanted to hope. But there had been moments. Sometimes Zayn would look at him a certain way, or hover a little closer when Liam was talking to someone else, but Liam had brushed it off as wishful thinking. 

What if Zayn really hadn't been with anyone else since they met? He was so angry when Liam told him they had to stop. At the time Liam thought he was just pissy about losing an easy hook up, but now…

Liam's pacing slowed to a stop, a grimace on his face.

But that was ridiculous. Why wouldn't he just talk to Liam instead of spending the past few weeks drowning himself in alcohol.

 _And_ _other people._

Liam dropped the remote on the sofa with a grunt of frustration. Looking at the mess covering the coffee table, he gathered up the snacks and cups, taking them to the kitchen. He managed to distract himself for a few minutes, putting up the food and washing the dishes they'd used, but then he was back to brooding, leaning against the worktop and taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself down.

He'd never considered himself a jealous person. But being “casual” had made him feel out of his mind sometimes. It was like every second Zayn wasn't in his sight he couldn't stop thinking what Zayn might've been doing.

_Or who._

He didn't like that side of himself. But even though they'd ended things, the thought of Zayn messing around with someone else, especially when he really wanted Liam, when he could've _had_ Liam—

The deep breathing wasn’t working.

Liam left the kitchen and immediately strode over to the front closet and took out his coat. After only a moment’s hesitation he put it on.

He was tired of this. Months of lying and pretending not to "do relationships." Weeks of making them both completely miserable. Liam needed to talk to Zayn.

He slipped out of the flat, the door clicking shut behind him.

He wanted answers. 

+

Liam was practically vibrating with energy as he pushed through the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Well, one face in particular, but he wasn't quite sure he was ready for that yet. Most of him wanted to just find Zayn and confront him, but there was still a small part that kept reminding him he had no idea what he was going to say or do.

This was probably a bad idea.

Suddenly Niall popped up out of nowhere, making Liam accidently stumble into him. “Liam!” Niall shouted over the music. His eyes were wide and held a hint of panic. Liam noticed his gaze flick over to the side and Liam tilted his head to see what had caught his attention. Niall moved over to the right, blocking his view.

“I didn't know you were coming!” He grabbed Liam's arm with surprising strength and moved them through the crowd until they reached a quieter spot. “I thought you were staying in Holmes Chapel. I haven't seen you in ages.”

Liam tuned out Niall's nervous chatter and started looking around for Zayn again. _What if he isn't here yet? What if he isn't even coming?_ Liam stiffened. _What if he's already left with someone else?_

“Where is he?” Liam asked abruptly, interrupting Niall. He knew he was being kind of rude, but he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin if he didn't get the truth. He needed to find Zayn before he lost his nerve.

Niall shifted from foot to foot nervously. “Who?”

Liam's jaw tightened, his eyes boring into him. Niall avoided Liam’s gaze in favor of staring into his cup while he took a drink.

_Now is not the time for games, Niall._

“Zayn.”

“Um. Are you sure—”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Liam—”

“Is this where you give me your opinion too? I've already heard Harry and Louis'.”

“Opinion?”

Liam's glare intensified.

Niall sighed. “You mean how I think Zayn is clearly in denial and wants to be with you even if he won't admit it?"

Liam held back a groan, deflating slightly. _Did everyone know except me?_ His eyes honed in on the plastic cup in Niall's hand. Before he could second guess himself he grabbed it and downed the rest of its contents.

“Hey…” Niall protested, gazing mournfully after his stolen drink.

Liam swallowed a couple more times, trying to get rid of the awful burn in his throat. _People actually drink this? How is this liquid courage?_ He grimaced staring down at the now empty cup. _Don't throw up._

“What _was_ that?”

“Just some vodka and orange juice.” Niall shrugged. “Maybe a little heavy on the vodka. It's a party. I didn't bring out the good stuff.” The awful taste in Liam's mouth started to fade and the burning sensation came down from intense to curiously pleasant. “Most people are going to be too drunk to taste it soon anyway.”

“It tastes like rubbing alcohol,” Liam muttered.

Niall laughed. “Well if I knew you were going to pick now to start drinking I would’ve started you off with something a bit gentler...” He trailed off at Liam's sharp inhale.

Liam was staring over Niall's shoulder where he could just spot Zayn in the far corner.

He hadn't noticed him until now, probably because most of his body was being covered by someone else while they made out against the wall. A flash of hurt went through him. Maybe this entire thing had been a huge mistake.

Liam's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. But there was something off about the other guy.

Liam's hands clenched for an instant and then he was pushing past Niall and into the crowd, moving towards the pair. The thing was that guy, whose hands were all over Zayn, looked just like Liam. He had Liam's haircut and they were the same build and Liam was pretty sure he had that exact shirt in his closet somewhere and that meant—

Liam grabbed the back of the guy's shirt, wrenching him away from Zayn. He ignored the protests in the background and focused on Zayn, who was still leaning against the wall looking dazed, his hair mussed and his lips reddened.

A fresh wave of anger crashed over him.

“Liam?” Zayn asked.

Liam's hand gripped Zayn's waist and he let out a low growl as he felt a hand pulling on his shoulder. He tore his gaze away from Zayn and looked behind him, his eyes flashing with irritation.

“Leave,” he ground out.

Liam took some petty satisfaction in realizing he had a few inches on his imposter. The other guy seemed like he was going to start arguing again and Liam continued to glare, pulling Zayn closer to him. He eyed Liam for a moment and then glanced over at Zayn, who had yet to make any effort to move. With an eye roll, he turned and stalked away.

“Liam?” Zayn repeated.

Liam crowded Zayn into the corner, pressing their bodies flush against each other.

“What are you—”

Liam cut him off with a hard kiss, trying to pour all of his frustration into the press of his lips against Zayn's. Zayn made a hum of surprise but that didn't stop him from returning the kiss just as hungrily. Liam felt the last bit of his unease fade away at Zayn's reaction.

Zayn had been wanting this as much as he had.

“Really, Zayn?” Liam mumbled. He nipped at Zayn's bottom lip a little less carefully than he usually would. “Him?” Liam moved from Zayn's mouth, kissing and nipping along his jawline and down his neck. He could feel Zayn's shallow pants in his ear and his hands clutching at Liam's shoulders as Liam marked a sensitive spot near his collar bone.

Liam buried his face in the crook of Zayn's neck. “You're such”—he ran his tongue over one of the lovebites, making Zayn's breath hitch—“an idiot.”

Liam wedged his leg further between Zayn's and Zayn actually made a whimpering noise, shifting against Liam's thigh. He buried a hand in Liam's hair to tug him into another kiss that held a tinge of desperation.

“Two weeks,” Liam muttered as he pulled away slightly to take a breath.

Two weeks of making them both miserable. Two weeks of pretending not to want him.

He kissed Zayn again, this time slower with less of a frantic edge. His hands tightened around Zayn's waist and Zayn arched forward, moving his hips in a slow deliberate grind against him.

Liam groaned as he realized Zayn's hands had made their way under his shirt; he was running his fingers across Liam's back, up and down his sides. Zayn's hands moved lower, brushing against the button on the front his trousers.

Liam's mind was hazy, lost in the feeling of being with Zayn again, but there was something gnawing at the back of his mind. Something he was supposed to remember.

“Liam,” Zayn sighed, trying to pull him even closer.

Liam's eyes snapped open at the sound of Zayn's voice. He jerked away and put enough space between them so they weren't touching anymore. Zayn pouted, his face flushed, his lips shiny and red. He was still leaning against the wall, staring at him through slightly hooded eyes.

Liam licked his lips.

“No.” He was not supposed to be getting lost in Zayn. Again. Liam moved back into Zayn's space until he was a breath away from his mouth. “We are going on a date.” He said the words slowly and clearly. “A real date. Next Friday.” Liam's tongue traced his bottom lip, barely grazing Zayn's. Zayn leaned forward, but Liam was already drifting back, just out of reach.

Liam turned around and pushed his way back through the crowd. He didn’t breathe easy until he'd made it all the way back to the flat—where he immediately buried his face in his hands and wondered what the hell he had just done.

 

+

 

Harry stepped into the back garden with the hope that the fresh air would lift his mood a little. Plus, it was dark and still fairly crowded, so maybe it would take Louis longer to find him this time around.

It wasn't that he really wanted to avoid Louis, but he'd definitely gotten the hint that the entire point of tonight was so Eleanor could have more time alone with her boyfriend. Harry didn't know if Louis was oblivious to that fact or just didn't care, but either way he was foiling Eleanor's plans with the way he had been sticking by Harry all night.

It didn't help that the set up was a complete flop. He and Holli hadn't hated each other or anything, but it was obvious nothing was going to happen there. Harry got the feeling she was only doing it as a favor to Eleanor and Harry was pretty sure his utter lack of interest in her romantically was written all over his face.

Harry made his way over to the edge of the garden, waving to a few people he knew. He wasn't in much of a party mood and his mind kept drifting back to Liam's situation. It seemed they both weren't having much luck in the love department lately.

Harry sighed and chugged down most of his beer. _At least Zayn is actually into guys._

Harry leaned against the fence, doing his best not to look creepy. _Why couldn't I have fallen for someone who actually liked me back? No, I had to be a cliché. I had to fall for the one guy I couldn't have._

_It just had to be the straight guy._

Harry brought his cup to his lips again and then frowned down at it. Empty.

He eyed the keg at the opposite end of the garden. Harry probably didn't need any more alcohol in his system—another drink and he'd be on his way to getting absolutely plastered.

He pulled out his mobile instead. Maybe Liam was still awake. Harry needed someone to help him escape his descent into mind-numbing boredom. He kept scrolling through his contacts, slowing when he came across one name in particular. Harry bit his lip, his finger hovering over the message button.

_I wonder…_

He grimaced and turned off his phone instead. _Definitely no more drinks for me._

Contemplating texting Grimmy for a pity fuck was a clear sign he was getting too drunk. Sixty percent of Harry was pretty sure Nick would just laugh and tell him to man up and go jump Louis instead. The other 40% of him was pretty sure Nick would do all that and then fuck him anyway because Nick tended to have trouble saying no to Harry.

_Yeah, probably best to keep my mobile off. Avoid temptation and all that._

Harry pushed off the fence and dropped his cup in a rubbish bin as he passed. _Maybe I should go home._

He went take a detour around the outdoor shed and had to stop abruptly, almost running into someone. The person let out a muffled shriek and whipped around to face him.

“Shit, you scared me kid.” It was a girl, no, a woman, maybe in her early twenties. Harry swallowed. A very attractive woman. All thoughts of going home left his mind.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I wasn't really expecting anyone to be lurking in the shadows.” He flashed her one of his small grins that he had on good authority was charming as hell.

The woman's eyes narrowed and she gave him a quick once over. “Ha. You're hilarious.” She leaned against the fence and turned her gaze from him, but Harry saw the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, so maybe she wasn't entirely immune to his charms.

Harry leaned next to her, keeping a respectable distance while trying to look her over out of the corner of his eye. She was a little shorter than him, with long dark hair, and even in the low light he could tell she was fit.

Her eyes flickered toward him and she took drag from the cigarette between her fingers. “What?” she asked with a small frown.

“I was just wondering... I mean I've been to a lot of Niall's parties, but I don't think I've ever seen you before?”

She gave him another speculative glance and picked up her cup from where it was sitting on the ground. With a sigh she scooted closer to him so she could see out into the garden without her view being obstructed by the shed.

“I'm Caroline, Darcy's sister.” She waved her hand in the vague direction of a cluster of teens standing nearby. Harry assumed one of them was Darcy. “Sadly, I'm on babysitting duty. It's the only way our parents would let her come. So me, being the fabulous and gracious big sis I am, agreed to spend my Saturday night drinking shitty alcohol while I chain smoke and get hit on by guys' whose voices haven't even dropped yet.”

She paused, her cup halfway to her mouth. “No offense, love.” She brought the drink to her lips, taking a large mouthful.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Actually I am a bit offended thanks.” He made sure to use that low, gravely tone of voice he knew he was good at.

Caroline rolled her eyes.

“So”—he took a chance and slid closer to her—“I take it you're hiding away back here to escape guys like me?”

“Exactly. Though it doesn't seem to be working very well.” She gave him a pointed look. “But... I suppose like you a tiny bit more than the last four. So maybe I'll keep you.” She took another puff of her cigarette and shrugged. “That and Darcy has given me strict instructions to stay out of sight so that I don't embarrass her.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Not quite sure how you'd embarrass her.” He tilted his head so he could speak into her ear. “Steal the spotlight maybe...”

Caroline pursed her lips together with an unimpressed expression, but her eyes were shining in amusement. She made a tsking noise and waved a finger at him.” None of that. Or else I'm deducting points.”

Harry gave her a slow smile, leaning back. “Sorry. Again.” He ruffled the back of his head awkwardly. “So, um, if I promise to stop giving you terrible compliments, do you think I could hide out here as well?”

“Oh really? You think you can stop yourself?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“I'll try very, very hard,” he assured her solemnly.

“What do you need to hide from anyway? Trying to escape the hordes of girls chasing after you?”

Harry's good mood dropped a little and his grin faltered. “No, I don't exactly have hordes of anyone chasing after me.”

Caroline let out a disbelieving huff. “Doubt that. You've got heartbreaker written all over you.”

“Well I'm not,” Harry bit out.

Caroline blinked. “Alright then.” She gave him a curious look. “Seems like you're the one getting your heart broken.”

Harry was quiet for a moment and then he shrugged. “We're just friends.”

“Does he know that?”

Harry frowned, glancing at her in confusion.

She nodded towards the house and Harry followed her gaze to see Louis standing in the crowd looking straight at him. Their eyes met for only a second before Harry registered Eleanor’s presence as well and by then she was already tugging Louis away.

Harry turned back to Caroline whose expression had gone from mild curiosity to blatant interest.

“We're just friends,” Harry repeated. “And that was his girlfriend.”

Caroline grimaced. “Ouch. That's rough, kid.”

Harry relaxed, losing some of the tension in his face. “Stop calling me kid.”

“Hey, it's either kid or jailbait.”

Harry's eyes widened for a split second and then he was giving her a soft smile. “Excuse you I'm 16. Well. Soon enough anyway. But you can call me Harry.”

Caroline returned the smile. “Harry works too.” She dropped her cigarette, grinding it against the ground with one of her pumps. “So _Harry_ what's your story?”

Harry wet his lips and shook his head. “There's no story.”

“Oh come on, aren't you supposed to spill all your troubles to the wise, mysterious stranger at the bar? It works in all the films.”

Harry laughed. “What bar?”

“Eh, there's alcohol. That's what counts.” She nudged him with her elbow. “So…”

Harry pulled a face, but he started talking anyway. “Not much to tell really. I started going to Haslington this year. Louis and I didn’t even like each other at first, but Niall got us to try being friends. Then I had to go and fancy him and of course he found out. He's straight. He got a girlfriend over Christmas break. He doesn't like me like that. End of story.”

“Always more to a story like that.”

Harry shrugged again, avoiding eye contact.

“Alright, why don't we start with how he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you until his girlfriend forcibly removed him?” Caroline looked at him with a speculative gleam in her eye. “Somehow I'm thinking this behavior is not so out of the ordinary.”

Harry sighed.”That's just how Louis is. He's always been sort of...I don't know, he's close with _all_ his friends. Plus he's a little on edge tonight. Eleanor, that's his girlfriend, set me up with one of her friends for this party. Louis didn't want her to. We didn't end up hitting it off anyway, but I dunno, he's been kind of extra clingy ever since..." Harry trailed off as he caught the odd stare Caroline was giving him. “What?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you actually listen to the words coming out of your mouth or...?”

Harry’s confused expression stayed.

Caroline blinked slowly. “This _friend_ , constantly stares at you. Can't keep his hands off you. Blows off his girlfriend _repeatedly_ for you. And becomes irrationally jealous and possessive when you show interest in someone else. And you think he's not interested?" She shook her head. "This _Louis_ definitely wants in your pants. Don't think I missed the death glare he was sporting just because I dared to come within a foot of you.”

Harry let out a low laugh, not sounding amused at all. “You sound exactly like Grimmy.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Despite the awful nickname, this Grimmy person sounds spot on.”

Harry's jaw tightened. “Well you're both wrong. Louis knows how I feel, remember? He found out about my stupid crush and it almost _ruined our friendship_.” Harry had turned away from her a bit, his shoulders tight with tension.

Caroline made a pained sound in the back of her throat and wrapped an arm around him. “Teenagers. You couldn't pay me to be your age again.” She gently tugged at one of his curls. “What happened?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. After a moment he exhaled, his shoulders loosening. “He didn't know I was into guys at first. But then we went to a party in my hometown and Nick, that's Grimmy, was there and, well, we sort of used to hook up last summer and he kissed me while Louis was _right there_ and Louis said it was fine, but then he started acting weird and I started freaking out and the whole thing blew up in our faces—”

Harry took a breath, cutting off his ramble. “We didn't talk to each other for ages. It was _horrible_.”

He swallowed and glanced away. “I don't need to do anything to set him off again. I just need to get over this.”

Caroline was silent for a moment, her hand resting on Harry's shoulder.

"Look," she began slowly, "I don't know Louis, or even if he's worth your time at all. But if he's really who you want, I wouldn't write him off quite yet."

Caroline moved in front of him, catching his eye. "Nick, the one Louis saw you kissing. He's the one who thinks Louis is head over heels for you, right? Same person who's been on the receiving end of Louis' death glares?"

Harry nodded. “He puts it a bit cruder, but yeah. Okay, I know how it seems—”

“Do you? Because Louis may have said he only has platonic feelings, but actions speak louder than words... and his are screaming that he fancies you. A lot. Did you ever think he was 'acting weird' because he was having some not so innocent thoughts about his new, also male, friend?”

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking. It was as if he was being wrenched in two different directions. What Caroline and Nick kept saying sounded possible, but so did Harry's explanation—Louis' blatant lack of boundaries in his friendships. He didn't know what to think.

_I can't even argue about this anymore._

“He has a girlfriend,” Harry said finally.

"That's not a no."

“He has a girlfriend,” Harry repeated, his voice firm.

Caroline let out a huff of laughter and leaned back against the fence. “I can already see the homewrecker guilt and you haven't even done anything.”

Harry shrugged in a helpless gesture. He didn't want to hope. _Maybe if so much hadn't gone wrong already…_

But nothing could change the fact that Louis was taken, no matter what his feelings were toward Harry.

“If you were anyone else I'd tell you just to speed this whole thing up and seduce him with your wide eyes and luscious curls," Caroline said with a smirk. "It'd be easy, he's clearly gone for you.

“But since I don't think I can convince of that yet, here's some advice. Romantic feelings or not, you're obviously important to him. I'm not saying you should sabotage their relationship, but you don't have to be a doormat either." A frown crossed her face. "I mean for Christ’s sake you're actually _hiding_ so he can spend time with her when he clearly would rather be with you.”

She pinned him with another unimpressed look. “I’m sure Louis is a big boy. He can handle his own relationships. Why don't you let him decide who gets his attention?” Caroline shrugged, her eyes widening innocently. “And well, if the girlfriend issue mysteriously disappears in a few weeks… well that's just a plus.”

Harry tried to suppress his smile, shaking his head at her. “I don't want—”

“But not your fault.” Caroline leaned over closer, murmuring to him. “Possessive little shit isn't he?” Her warm breath coasted over the shell of his ear, making his face flush.

Harry blinked and followed her gaze to Louis who was stalking towards them with a particularly irritated expression on his face.

Caroline grinned. “Remember what I said. Their relationship isn't your responsibility.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, stepping away as Louis reached them.

She flashed Louis a bright smile before returning her attention to Harry. “Well then. I think I make quite an excellent wise, mysterious stranger. Perhaps I've found my calling.” She held out her hand. “Mobile please.”

Harry stared back at her in surprise, but dutifully pulled out his phone, placing it in her palm. Louis frowned when she started to enter her number into it.

“You're cute. And you should call me”—she handed the mobile back to him—“in a few years. When the voice has dropped some more and you're not still in secondary school.” She gave Harry a tiny wink. “You know, if that other thing doesn't work out. But for now I'm always available for advice.”

Caroline took another step away from them. “Now if you'll excuse me, Darcy appears to be about to make some bad decisions, so I better go embarrass her a little for good measure.” She turned around, making her way towards the group of kids from earlier.

By now Louis' irritated expression had gotten even worse. “Who was that?”

“Caroline,” Harry said, barely managing to bite back a sigh at the jealous edge in Louis' voice. All he ever did was give Harry confusing signals. It was starting to feel like he was always saying _'I don't want you, but no one else can have you'_.

“Well—”

_And I'm tired of it._

“Why are you here, Louis?”

Louis took a half-step back, blinking in surprise at Harry's harsh tone. “Uh, I'm pretty sure I've got a standing invitation…”

Harry's hands clenched inside his pockets. “No. Why are you _here_? With me.” Harry stared at him in frustration. “Why aren't you with Eleanor?”

Louis stared back, looking sort of confused and pouty. “I missed you. I... you've been gone all night. I feel like I've barely seen you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, his mouth twisting with impatience. “You see me _every day.”_

Louis frowned and crossed his arms. “Well sorry for wanting to spend time with you.”

Harry struggled to ignore the hurt tone in his voice. “Don't be sorry. I just don't understand.”

Louis made an expression that said he clearly thought Harry had lost his mind. “What's to understand? We're friends.” His voice was starting to get louder.

Harry took a step forward. “Why aren't you with Eleanor?”

Louis uncrossed his arms in exasperation. “Why do you keep bringing up Eleanor?!”

“Why don't you!”

“Why are we fighting?!”

“I don't know!”

Louis was looking at him in slight alarm and complete bewilderment.

Harry slumped against the fence, abruptly feeling drained and lost. “I don't know.”

Louis' face softened. “C'mere.” He walked forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, even as his arms automatically went around Louis' waist.

“Uh, it's called a hug, Hazza, maybe you've heard of them.” Louis rested his head against Harry's. “You looked like you needed one.”

Harry relaxed into Louis, the rest of his anger and frustration melting away. He still had no idea what he was going to do about his crush, but even that couldn't put a damper on how right it felt to be in Louis' arms.

“Ugh.” Louis rubbed his face against Harry's shoulder. “You smell like her.”

Harry let out a breathless laugh. _Shit. I'm completely gone for him, aren't I?_

“You know you're sort of possessive,” Harry mumbled. He felt Louis swallow.

“Yeah well. So are you,” Louis replied in a quiet voice.

Harry shook his head slowly, a half smile forming on his lips. He was about to respond when he spotted Eleanor back outside, obviously looking for Louis. Harry's breath caught in his throat as Eleanor's eyes landed on the two of them. Immediately he felt the urge to loosen his grip around Louis and put some space between them.

But then again, Louis didn't think of him like that, so technically…

_I'm not doing anything wrong._

Louis had hugged _him_. Louis had come to _him_. And if Eleanor had a problem with that—Harry's grip around Louis tightened, his gaze staying trained on her—then she could come tell Louis herself.

 

+

 

Eleanor let out a sigh, her eyes darting around the crowded room. _No sign of him anywhere. Of course._ She excused herself from her friends, mumbling something about needing a refill. Not wholly untrue, seeing as this entire failure of a night had made her want to get completely trashed.

Eleanor started to chug the rest of her drink as she wandered around and tried not to stumble into anyone. She'd lost Louis. Again. She crushed her empty cup in frustration and chucked it in a bin.

She didn't want to be that girl. She wasn't the clingy girlfriend. Usually she liked having her space. But sometimes she felt like she got nothing but space from Louis.

Eleanor reached the keg and got another cup of beer. _Is it so wrong to want to spend time with my boyfriend?_

She stared down into the amber liquid like it would tell her all the answers. This was supposed to be _her_ night. One actual night with her boyfriend and not ‘Louis and Co.’. She figured Harry would be busy with Holli and Eleanor could coax a bedroom key out of Niall and she and Louis would have some time to themselves. But instead, Louis had latched onto Harry like a freakin' heat seeking missile and Eleanor was once again left trailing behind.

Eleanor started to push her way back through the crowd only to give up after a few feet and opt for leaning against the wall instead. She wasn't ready to go back to her friends and she wasn't ready to start her Louis search party either and this wall seemed optimal for holding her in an upright position. _Christ, when did I become a weepy drunk?_

If this had been someone else she would’ve given up already. Eleanor had better things to do than run after a boy on a Saturday night. _But I like Louis. I really, really like Louis._

When she wasn't irritated at him, Louis was amazing. They always had a fun and he made her laugh and she loved his mischievous streak and she just wanted to be around him; he was like this force she'd been drawn to. It made her feel special simply being caught up in his orbit.

Plus he was gorgeous. Eleanor frowned and took another sip. Bloody hell was he gorgeous.  _What right does he have to be walking around that pretty anyway?_

Eleanor's glare intensified and she absentmindedly noted that the guy who'd been eyeing her a second ago was now making a hasty retreat.

 _Good_.

Eleanor caught sight of Niall in the crowd and couldn't help but try and see if Louis was nearby. He wasn't. Eleanor was struck with an intense urge to go over there anyway and demand to know why Niall hated her and what she doing wrong and where Louis was, but even drunk El knew that was probably crossing the line into crazy girlfriend territory. Not that she was crazy. But still. There were boundaries.

She wasn't oblivious. She knew Louis' friends weren't her biggest fans. But Eleanor could see how important they were to him, so she tried hard to get them to like her. Yet even after a month she still felt like an outsider.

It wasn't that she thought they _hated_ her. Tolerated was more like it. Zayn pretty much ignored her existence, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable around new people in general so she didn't take it personally. Niall was the bubbly and talkative one, but he was always sort of subdued around her. And then there was Harry.

Harry Styles was somewhat of a mystery to her. It was obvious that even though Louis had known Niall and Zayn longer, he and Harry had something special and therefore it was Harry's approval Eleanor wanted the most. She could never get a good read on him though. There were times where she was sure out of the three of them Harry liked her the most, but there always seemed to be this wall between them that she couldn't get around no matter what.

Maybe they all were just really protective of each other. They wanted to make sure she didn't hurt Louis and Louis for some reason was afraid of someone hurting Harry. Or maybe afraid of someone taking Harry away? Eleanor definitely noticed Louis could seem insecure about his friendships in a clingy sort of way, especially with him and Harry.

_Why can't he be more insecure about someone taking **me** away?_

Eleanor tried to gather herself. _I'm not going to sit here and mope about this. Louis and Harry didn't even like each other when they met and look at them now. Maybe Louis and I just need more time._

She solidified her resolve to find Louis and try to have a good night. But first she needed to find Harry... because undoubtedly that was where Louis was.

Unfortunately, Eleanor didn't have Louis' same Harry-finding skills. Nonetheless, she crossed her fingers and went outside, making her way over to the shed where it looked like Harry had been getting cosy with Darcy's older sister before.

Eleanor stopped short as she came in sight of it, seeing Harry and Louis hugging. That in itself wasn't unusual—Louis gave out hugs like the health clinic gave out free condoms—but this looked different.

There was an uncomfortable twist in her stomach. It just felt different. It was so... intimate.

Eleanor knew the exact moment Harry spotted her because his eyes widened with a sort of panicked expression.

The uncomfortable feeling in her stomach grew.

_Well that's a weird reaction. Right? That's not normal._

Eleanor blinked slowly, her eyes heavy from the alcohol, as she tried to grasp what was happening. Harry and Louis were always close, but this? She couldn't help but take in the way they both seemed to completely relax into each other—there was absolutely no space between them, neither showing any signs of separating anytime soon.

Eleanor felt frozen in place. She couldn't approach them, but she couldn't take her eyes off Harry's either. For a moment it looked like he was going to shove Louis away and point him towards her. It hadn't escaped her notice that she and Harry were on the same team more often than not with trying to get Louis to pay attention to her rather than his friends.

But it didn't seem like that was going to happen now. Because a determined look had settled over Harry's face and he pressed his cheek even closer to Louis, his arms tightening around him.

Eleanor's heartbeat started to pick up.

She'd gotten that message loud and clear.

_'Mine.'_

Eleanor took a step away. _No_. And another one. And another one until she was stumbling back through the crowd and inside the house.

 _No. This is not happening_.

She needed to get out of here. Suddenly the party atmosphere felt too hot and confined, like everything was closing in around her. She started to push her way to the front of the house.

_I am such an idiot. Oh god, I am such an idiot._

How had she not seen it? Had she really been blinded by Louis that much? Had he been cheating on her this entire time? Had they been laughing at her behind her back?

Eleanor stumbled and grabbed the porch railing to keep from falling off the steps.

_I'm too drunk for this. I am way way too drunk for this._

She gave up on the steps and sat down right there, fumbling for her mobile.

“Holli? Hols I need— please—”

“El? What's wrong, babe? Why are you crying?”

Eleanor pressed her free hand to her face, surprised to find that it was wet. She let out a choked off sob. She hadn't even realized she was crying.

_That's it. I'm officially a cliché. I'm that drunk girl sitting on the pavement crying over her boyfriend._

Was this karma? Karma for judging them and thinking how that would never be her? Because she would never do that again. This was awful. Awful and humiliating and— and—

And it _hurt_. It hurt so much.

Holli was still saying something, her voice sounding more frantic.

“El, are you still there? Where are you?”

“Out front. Please. I need to go home.”

Holli appeared seconds later, sitting beside her. “What's going on? What's happening?”

Eleanor shook her head and leaned against Holli's shoulder. “Please, I just want to go home. I can't be here.”

Holli nodded, wrapping an arm around her. “Alright. Let me call someone to get us.”

Eleanor felt a wave of gratitude toward her for not asking more questions. “Thanks, Hols.”

Holli pulled her closer as she dialed someone on her mobile. “No problem, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for implied domestic violence, self-blame, genderism (ie sex=gender)

Louis kept his eyes closed, blindly groping underneath his pillow for his mobile. The loud vibrating was doing absolutely nothing to help with his hangover. Why did he think drinking was fun again? Clearly alcohol was made as punishment for his sins in a past life.

He brought the phone to his ear, not bothering to check who it was. “'lo?”

“I need to see you.”

Louis frowned while he buried his head beneath his blankets. “Wha?” What kind of asshole would be calling him right now?

“I need to see you.”

“Mhmm,” Louis mumbled his agreement, attempting to slip back into the nice warm sleepy feeling and hold off the nausea creeping up.

“Louis!”

Louis hissed and held the mobile away from his ear. “Don't. Yell.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “I need to see you.”

He blinked his eyes open, finally registering the owner of the voice. “El?”

“Can you be at the diner in 20 minutes?”

“Well, it's kinda—”

“Louis.” She sounded angry. And not hungover at all, which was so not fair.

Louis huffed. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, alright geez.” He glanced at his clock. _9:57am_.

“I'll be there in 20. I can ring some of the others—”

“No,” she snapped. “Just you.”

Louis blinked, feeling more awake. “Is everything okay?”

“The diner. Twenty minutes.” She hung up.

Louis took the mobile from his ear and stared at it blankly. _Well that was weird. And sort of rude._

He stretched his arms above his head, trying to work out some of the stiffness in his limbs as he wracked his mind for anything that might've upset Eleanor last night. He'd been pretty drunk, but it wasn't like he’d blacked out. Maybe it had to do with why she left early?

Louis walked into the diner around 10:30. _Close enough._ Scanning the room, he spotted Eleanor in a corner booth at the back, wearing large black sunglasses and a cup of coffee sitting in front of her.

_So much for not being hungover._

“So what's going on?” Louis slid into the booth across from her. “You left early last night.”

“Surprised you noticed.”

“Uh, of course I did. One of your friends, Sarah I think, told me she saw you leave with Holli.” He pulled a menu out from the stand on the table, glancing down at it.

“Lou—”

“I texted you a few times, but you didn't answer. I thought you'd gone to asleep already.” He looked over at her, a small frown on his face.  “Were you sick? I would've gotten you home.”

“Louis we—”

“Hi, I’m Grace. What can I get you?” Their waitress was standing next to the table, tapping her pen against a small pad.

“Oh, um, could I have a coffee too please?” Louis asked.

“Nothing.”

“And—” Louis' attention snapped towards Eleanor. “Nothing?” _What was the point of dragging me out here in the first place?_ “Don't you—”

“No. I don't plan on being here long enough to eat. I only came to tell you we're breaking up.”

The waitress stopped tapping her pen and Louis froze as well. They both stared at Eleanor with wide eyes.

“Um”—Grace the waitress started to back up, glancing between them—“how about I go get that coffee to start?” She left without waiting for an answer.

Louis was still staring at Eleanor. His heart was pounding in his chest. _What?_

He let out of breath of laughter. “Sorry, but I thought you said that— that we were breaking up.”

Eleanor nodded. “We are.” She gathered up her handbag and coat.

“What?” Louis scrambled for something to say. Nothing was making any sense and everything was moving too fast. “Why?”

“It's just not working.” She started to slide out of the booth.

Louis forced himself to remain seated. “Wait. Eleanor, please. Stop.”

She paused, her grip on her bag tightening.

“El.”

Eleanor breathed out heavily, her nose flaring, but she moved back into the booth.

Louis relaxed a fraction. “This seems really sudden.” He kept his eyes on her, trying to choose his words carefully. He felt like one wrong thing could set her off again and then they'd never figure this out. “I don't understand. Why?”

“Why do you think?” She sounded tired.

Louis kept quiet, still afraid that anything he said would be wrong. Sure they weren't perfect, but no relationship was. He had no idea what would make her want to break up with him.

Eleanor hesitated before removing her sunglasses and leaning forward. Even though he was confident he hadn't done anything Louis still felt a pang of guilt when he saw her red rimmed eyes.

“Are you cheating on me?”

And just like that it was okay again. Louis couldn't help but choke out a laugh, which probably wasn’t the best idea, but he was so relieved. This was a big misunderstanding. They weren't going to break up.

“El. I'm sorry, but what? Of course not.” He leaned forward as well, reaching to lay his hand over hers, but she pulled away. He took his hand back and instead opted to look her in the eye and try to communicate as much sincerity possible.”Come on, think about it. When would I be cheating on you? We're practically always together.”

Eleanor looked a bit uncertain, dragging her finger around the edge of her coffee cup.

Louis relaxed even more, sinking back into the booth. “Besides, with _who?”_

But apparently this was the wrong thing to say because Eleanor's pinched expression returned.

“With Harry. You're cheating on me with Harry.”

Louis stopped breathing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew logically he hadn't literally stopped breathing, but all logic had been drowned out by an overwhelming sense of panic.

Louis swallowed dryly. There was no reason to panic. It's not like he'd actually cheated on Eleanor with Harry.

“Styles? El. That's ridiculous.” He broke eye contact and glanced over to the counter to see if he could spot their waitress. _I could really use that coffee about now._

“Oh really?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes really.”

Things might've gotten a bit… _weird_ sometimes. _But that doesn't mean anything._ If anything Eleanor was only sensing Harry's feelings. Louis had nothing to do with it. He was happy with her.

“Harry and I are friends. Just friends. We're close yeah, but that doesn't mean—” Louis shook his head. “This is so stupid, why can't I be close with my friends without people acting as if something more is going—”

“Don't.” She hadn't raised her voice, but there was a quiet fury in her tone. “Don't act like I'm crazy. I'm not. Yes, you are close to them. But don't sit there and try to act like it's the same with Harry. You know it's not. So don’t treat me like I'm a complete moron.”

“I'm not saying you're a moron. But Harry and I—”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me you're not even attracted to him?”

Louis' face flushed immediately. He tried to will his cheeks to calm, but he knew Eleanor had seen by the way her face fell momentarily, only to be replaced by an ugly smirk of satisfaction as she leaned back into the seat.

“That- that's got nothing to do—” Of course Louis had noticed Harry was attractive. He'd noticed it quite a bit actually. But she couldn't hold that against him. _You'd have to be dead not to notice how attractive Harry is_ …

“I haven't cheated on you,” Louis said firmly. “At all. With him or anyone else.”

“Oh sure, yeah okay. You've never even kissed?”

Louis blinked, remembering Harry sprawled below him in his living room, hair tousled and cheeks pink, still laughing from their 'pillow fight'.

“No.” He bit his bottom lip, trying to forget the feeling of Harry's breath across his face. He'd been so close. “No we haven't.”

Technically, nothing had happened that day so Louis had chosen to ignore it. Harry obviously felt a bit weird afterwards, but it wasn't a big deal. It was a fluke. An accident. A byproduct of a naturally close friendship.

Or at least he'd thought so until his girlfriend accused him of cheating.

 _Ex-girlfriend,_ a helpful voice reminded him.

Eleanor still seemed unconvinced and Louis couldn't exactly blame her, seeing as even he could tell he was doing a pretty poor job of making his case. But he _was_ telling the truth.

“Anyway, this whole conversation is pointless because I'm not— I mean I'm—” He frowned. “I'm straight. I'm dating you.”

Eleanor stared.

Louis shifted awkwardly in the booth, trying to hold her gaze.

“Oh.” She looked down at the table. “Oh that's- you—” Louis heard her let out the broken, breathless laugh.

Once again he felt two steps behind the conversation. Louis couldn't bring himself to ask what she was talking about though. Sometimes it was better just not to know.

Eleanor put her elbow on the table, resting her head in her hand. “I don't know if that's better or worse.”

Louis wasn't sure if she was still talking to him, or just herself.

“I'm... sorry?” he offered. He jumped slightly as a cup of coffee was placed in front of him.

The waitress had returned (finally) and was giving them a wary look. “So have you decided what you want yet or…”

Louis glanced at Eleanor who was still staring at the table, ignoring them both. He shook his head. “I think we're good with the coffee for now, thanks.”

“Okay then.” She nodded and walked away quickly, obviously glad to be clear of the tense atmosphere.

Louis was kind of wishing he could disappear too. He started to dump truly obscene amounts of creamer and sugar into his coffee. It would never be better than tea, but he needed something a little stronger this morning.

Louis shot another furtive glance at Eleanor. The shock of this whole thing was starting to wear off and he wasn't that surprised to find he wasn't too upset about breaking up in general. He really liked Eleanor, but he'd never thought she was the love of his life or anything.

Louis stirred his coffee slowly, staring down into the cup.

 _I hate seeing her like this though._ He couldn't stand the thought that he'd made someone feel so awful. Or that she thought he was capable of cheating on her.

“I should have seen it from the beginning.”

Louis looked up to find Eleanor's eyes focused on him, her gaze piercing.

“That first night, when we went to Niall's party,” she explained. “I thought something was up, but you'd just said I was your girlfriend. I didn't want to bring it up.” She shook her head. “Niall was upset about me being there and then two seconds after I met Harry he ran off.”

At Eleanor's expectant look a sheepish expression crossed Louis' face. “Harry might've had a bit of a crush on me before then? I knew and, well, it got sort of awkward…”

Eleanor scoffed. “Well at least one of you isn't in denial,” she muttered.

Louis' grip on his cup handle tightened. “But we fixed it. Plus Harry was dating _Nick_ anyway.” Louis pulled another face, looking more angry than apologetic. “So it's fine.”

 Eleanor stared at him dubiously. "You 'fixed' it."

“Well, we didn't fix it so much as had an awful fight and then decided never to speak about it again.”

Eleanor raised her eyebrows and Louis grimaced.

“Right. That sounds bad. But it wasn't just that. There was the Nick thing too, with this party and, um—”

“The party in Holmes Chapel.” Eleanor returned Louis' surprised expression with an unimpressed look of her own. “I did listen to Nick's stories”—her lip curled slightly—“even if I did miss his massive hints. That's the party where he started making out with Harry and then got embarrassed because he thought you two were _boyfriends_.”

She flashed Louis a cold, sharp smile. “See, massive hint. I must remember to thank him.”

A strange expression crossed her face. “That was… that party, the fight, that was right before we met.” She frowned. Louis felt a sense of dread and with a moment of stark clarity he could tell exactly where this conversation was going.

Eleanor must have seen him gearing up to stop her because she held up a finger and said, “No, wait, let me work this out.” Her frown deepened. “So you find out that not only is Harry into guys, but he has a crush on you, but he's 'dating' Nick. And then...” She paused again, putting down her finger.

“And then you have a jealous tantrum, drink yourself silly, and wake up with a girlfriend.” Her shoulders slumped, her expression a mixture of dismay and disbelief.

Louis gaped at her, seeing the conclusions she was reaching in her head. She made it sound like he was using her. Like she was some sort of distraction to avoid Harry.

“El, that's not— I mean I know— I didn't—” Louis couldn't get his thoughts out properly. He wanted to just take a moment and _think_ so he could explain it properly, but there was a large part of him that was afraid to. Because what if she was right?

Louis' voice was edging on desperate. “It's not what you're making it sound like—”

Eleanor's hands clenched on top of the table. “What I'm making it sound like? I'm not making it sound like anything, that's how it is!”

Louis' mouth snapped shut.

“I can't believe how stupid I was,” she continued. She started blink rapidly, her eyes looking glassy. “How you—”

Eleanor cut herself off and took a deep breath. “No.” She slid her sunglasses over her eyes. “This is definitely worse.” Her voice wavered a bit. “A- at least if you were doing it on purpose I could hate you properly.” She picked up her coat and handbag again, placing them on her lap.

“Eleanor.” Louis’ voice broke around her name.

Eleanor sighed, fingering her coat as she looked down. “I can't stay here and— and talk this out with you, Louis. I just can't.”

She got out of the booth with an angry huff and started to put on her coat. “Look, you don't have to worry or anything. I’m not going to tell anyone.” She shrugged halfheartedly. “It's like I get that you have to figure yourself out, but I don't appreciate being used. I'm not anyone's consolation prize. So you should probably figure your shit out before you go and drag another clueless girl into your mess.”

Eleanor pulled her handbag onto her shoulder and crossed her arms, staring down at him.  “Because next time maybe she'll actually fall for you. And she'll think that one day you might love her too.” She bit her lip for a moment and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. “But you never will. And _no one_ deserves that.”

“But maybe,” Louis tried, his voice almost timid, “maybe I could love her—”

“No,” Eleanor snapped. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “No, Louis, I don't think you could.” Eleanor took a step back, opening and closing her mouth like she was going to say something else but then thought better off it. She turned and walked away.

Louis stared after her until she disappeared out the door and then kept staring as if he was expecting her to come back. The entire situation felt unreal. It was only last night that everything seemed fine and now...

Louis crossed his arms on the table and buried his face inside them, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of guilt threatening to suffocate him.

Now everything was falling apart.

 

+

 

When Louis showed up on his doorstep with a bottle of rum stuffed under his coat Zayn had a flare of panic that Louis was actually psychic.

It passed in the next second because the notion was completely ridiculous, which only led to Zayn being even more worried because if Louis was oblivious to Zayn's problems then the alcohol must be for Louis himself.

And Louis usually wasn't one to try and drown himself in alcohol unless he was having a really hard time.

Zayn nodded warily and Louis tucked the bottle back inside his coat, following him into the house. Zayn let him into his room and clicked the lock in place behind them. Louis plopped down in the middle of the floor, dragging Zayn down with him. He unscrewed the rum and took a long drink before holding it out to Zayn.

Zayn hesitated.

In all honesty he was still feeling sort of rough from the night before. His hangover wasn't as awful as it could've been—the thing with Liam had left him reeling enough that he didn't even go on with his usual ritual of getting completely shitfaced. He'd stuck around long enough to be sure he wouldn't run into Liam outside and then he'd gone home.

Louis was still holding the bottle out expectantly and Zayn glanced at him, taking in his slightly manic expression.

Zayn sighed. “Cheers,” he mumbled. He took a small swig, grimacing the entire time.  His stomach was rolling just from the smell. He handed the bottle back to Louis who immediately took another massive drink.

And promptly handed it back to Zayn.

Zayn held back a groan. So it was going to be one of those times. He sent a quick prayer out to the universe for his stomach to hold up and drank for as long as he could manage.

The quicker he got pissed, the quicker his hangover would be forgotten, and the quicker Louis would get to talking about whatever was bothering him.

“The things I do for you, Tomlinson,” Zayn muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Louis just beamed at him and took the bottle again, throwing back another drink.

Zayn wasn't sure how much they'd drunk, but eventually he stopped gagging at the smell of rum and everything went pleasantly numb. He let out a pleased murmur and rested his head against the side of the bed. Louis had migrated from a sitting position to lying down, sprawled out over the floor, the top of his head pressing against Zayn's thigh.

“Zayn?”

Zayn made a quiet noise, his eyes drooping a bit.

“How did you know you liked guys?”

Zayn's eyes snapped open. Well that wasn't where he thought this conversation was going. He probably should've seen it coming though. It was about time.

“There was this guy—” Zayn blanched. That was not what he'd meant to say. He backtracked a bit.

“It's not like I was one of those people who always knew. But then I met this guy. He was... a couple years above us.” Zayn eyed the rum bottle sitting between them before reaching out and taking another swig. _Why am I talking about this? I never talk about this._

“He was into me or something. And I think I just liked the attention at first but... he wasn't interested in being _friends_ you know? Not after a few weeks. And I don't know, I wasn't into it at first, but then I kinda was?”

Zayn's hand tightened around the bottleneck.

_And then I wasn't anymore._

“He was fit, I guess. But I figured out he was a creep anyway and dropped him.” Zayn snorted, still avoiding looking at Louis. “I think I felt rebellious or some shit by making out with a hot older guy. So stupid,” he muttered under this breath. He let out a shaky exhale, taking another sip of the rum. It didn't even burn anymore.

Zayn ignored the nausea starting to curl in his stomach, not sure if it was from the alcohol, the memory, or both.

“Afterwards though, I still knew. It wasn't really a thing. I just knew that I liked guys too.” He chanced a look down at Louis. Louis was still lying on the floor, but his head was tilted a bit to the side so he could stare up at Zayn's face.

“I don't remember that.” There was this soft concern in his voice, which was exactly what Zayn had been trying to avoid. Louis frowned. “I didn't even know you'd dated anyone before. I mean really dated. Ever.”

Zayn shrugged slowly. “We were thirteen.” And that was all he needed to say really. Because thirteen was the age when Louis' family had started to fall apart and so did Niall's and no one would've caught on to Zayn disappearing a little more often.

“But—”

Zayn caught Louis' eye and shook his head firmly, once. He was not going to talk about this.

Louis pressed his lips together like he wasn't happy about it, but he would respect Zayn's wishes. For now.

Louis turned away, going back to staring up at the ceiling. “But, you still like girls right?”

“Yeah.”

Louis made a noise in the back of his throat and fell silent again.

Zayn waited for him to say something else, but Louis didn’t speak. He nudged him with his leg. “Come on then. Out with it already.”

Louis bit his lip in hesitation and then he drew himself up into a sitting position next to Zayn.  “Do you think I'm gay?” he asked, staring at Zayn with an earnest expression.

“That's— you can't just—” Zayn exhaled and set the bottle down carefully. No wonder Louis wanted to have alcohol for this conversation. “I can't tell you that,” Zayn said eventually. “I don't know. You're the only one who can.”

Louis pouted. “But I'm asking you.”

Zayn was still having a little trouble with the fact that Louis had actually come to him for advice; _Louis_ who would rather act like he never even had problems than come to anyone for help. Zayn tried to pull his thoughts together out of the haze of rum. “Well, why do you think you're gay?”

Louis picked at the strings of his hoodie, leaning against him. “Eleanor broke up with me.”

Zayn felt torn. On the one hand, he never really cared for Eleanor. Good riddance to be honest. On the other hand, Louis looked sort of upset and Zayn didn't want to make it worse. He finally went with a simple, “What happened?”

Louis sighed and settled more comfortably against him. “She told me it was over this morning. At the diner.” His voice dropped lower. “She thinks I'm gay.”

Zayn scowled. “Don't let _Eleanor_ tell you anything. There’s only one person who can say that. And it's not her.”

“But what if I don't know?” He was back to giving Zayn that pitiful, earnest look.

“You’ll figure it out. Somehow.” Zayn shrugged. “You can always just go kiss a guy and see.”

Louis was quiet for a moment and then he started giving Zayn this odd look out of the corner of his eye.

Zayn blinked and Louis waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

In turn Zayn reached out and cupped his chin gently before yanking him close and placing a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. He leaned back with a smirk. “Not a chance in hell.”

Louis laughed and wiped his cheek with his sleeve. “I didn't want to kiss you anyway.”

“Oh really? Already have someone else in mind then?”

“No.”

Zayn snorted. “Liar.” If Louis hadn't already thought about backing Harry up against a wall and snogging him at least once, Zayn would eat his own hand.

There was an unexpected silence and Zayn looked over to see that Louis had gone very still.

“Lou?”

Louis glanced at him with a weak smile. “Maybe? Maybe I- I...” He trailed off. Abruptly, he reached over Zayn, going for the rum bottle.

Zayn's hand clasped over his wrist before he even realized what he was doing. He knew it was sort of hypocritical of him, but Louis shouldn't be trying to drown himself in alcohol right now. Zayn hated seeing him like this.

“Lou, you don't have to do this. Don't be in such a rush to put yourself in a box just because other people say you have to.” He gave Louis' wrist a reassuring squeeze. “You don't need any label. As long as it's all consensual and stuff, touch who you want to touch and worry about what parts they have later.” He let go of Louis' hand. “We'll still love you no matter what.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “That was really mushy, mate.” But the next moment Zayn had his arms full as Louis hugged him tightly. “Thanks,” he whispered before pulling away.

Zayn nodded, clearing his throat awkwardly. His fingers twitched in his lap, aching for a cigarette.

Louis scooted down until he was lying on his back again, his head resting on Zayn's leg. “Can I tell you something else?”

“No.”

Louis grinned and Zayn was glad to see _Louis_ back rather than the sad, serious version that had been making appearances tonight.

“Well I'm going to tell you anyway. Do you remember Beth?”

“You mean from _last_ _summer_.”

Louis rolled his eyes at his sarcastic tone. “Do you remember her or not?”

“Yeah, I remember 'Beth the Blonde Bombshell'. You two were all over each other. Why?”

“Do you know why we broke up?”

“I thought you both only wanted it to be a summer thing.”

Louis shook his head, a sort of embarrassed expression on his face.  “She wanted to... well you said we were all over each other, but it was more like she was all over me. And a few weeks before school started she wanted to have sex... and I kind of said no.”

“Oh. So you've never…”

“Nope.” He paused. “Zayn,” Louis' voice sounded small, “what if I don't like girls at all?”

Zayn stilled, staring at Louis whose head was bowed as he played with his hoodie strings again. “Then...” He wracked his brain for something to lighten Louis' mood. “Then I guess you better get good at sucking dick,” he finished, his voice calm.

Louis head snapped up, his eyes wide.

“What?” Zayn tried to keep a nonchalant air while he fought back a smile. “It's true.” He ruffled Louis' hair. “It's not so bad,” he said reassuringly.

“Gross,” Louis groaned and ducked from beneath his hand. But his shoulders had relaxed and he was laughing, so Zayn counted it as a win.

“Don't worry, I can't tell you all my tricks, but I'll give you some tips.” Zayn smirked. “I'm sure whoever you were thinking about kissing earlier will appreciate it.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Uh huh. I must've just made up all that unresolved sexual tension between you and a certain friend of ours then?”

Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times, doing an excellent impression of a goldfish.

“No? Tall, green eyes, curly hair. Name rhymes with Barry Myles?”

Louis continued his goldfish routine for a few more seconds before he stopped. “Did everyone know but me?” His cheeks were flushed a light pink and he sounded resigned.

Zayn shrugged. “Not everyone. Me. Niall. Grimmy, of course.”

“Eleanor,” Louis added under his breath.

Zayn raised his eyebrows in question, but Louis waved him off.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Zayn’s lips curved apologetically. “We didn't want to push. You were kind of happy in denial land there. But lately... Well you can't tell me that all this has nothing to do with Harry.” Zayn patted his head. “If it helps Harry has no clue.”

Louis bit his lip, not responding. Instead he pulled out his mobile and glanced at the time. “Mum's gonna be expecting me soon.” He stood, swaying unsteadily. “Ugh, but maybe I should sleep this off a bit first.” He sat down heavily on the edge of Zayn's bed. “You mind?”

Zayn eyed him for a second. “No, go ahead.” He got up too, taking out his cigarette pack. 

Louis flopped back onto the bed and Zayn went to shove a towel along the base of his door. His parents had to know he smoked, but they hadn't caught him outright yet and Zayn wanted to keep it that way. He walked over to the window, throwing it open and leaning over the edge as he lit a cigarette.

“Zayn.”

He glanced at Louis who was still curled up on the bed, looking at Zayn with sleepy eyes.

“He's my _friend_.”

Zayn exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate. “Your friend who you already know is completely in love with you.”

Louis made an odd whimpering noise, pulling Zayn's duvet around him. “He's dating Nick.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Louis.”

“He is,” Louis whined, his voice slightly muffled.

Zayn took another couple of drags before turning to address him.

“He's not,” Zayn said in a firm voice. “Grimmy is just being a little shit because he likes to see you jealous yet somehow still oblivious. If anything he's probably a bit ticked because of all the attention Harry gives you.”

Louis pulled a face and buried himself further into the covers, turning from Zayn.

Zayn let him pout for a few minutes. “So what are you going to do?” he asked eventually.

Another few seconds went by before Louis answered, “I don't know,” his head still hidden under the duvet.

Zayn sighed but let it go, leaning against the windowsill and staring out at the darkening sky. He listened to the sound of Louis' breathing even out as he finished his cigarette.

Louis' problems had at least given him a brief reprieve from thinking about his own. Before Louis showed up Zayn had been thinking about Liam pretty much nonstop. He'd barely slept at all last night with his mind tossing and turning over what to do.

Zayn was stubborn but he wasn't a total fool; he knew he'd been miserable, bordering on self-destructive, these past two weeks. And he knew it was all because of Liam.

Zayn scowled and put out his cigarette against the brick wall next to the windowsill.

This was exactly what was _not_ supposed to happen. Zayn liked casual. Casual worked for him. He didn't have any obnoxious rules about never sleeping with the same person twice or whatever, but he always made it clear he wasn't permanent. It wasn't the first time someone had gotten attached to him.

Zayn released a breath, reaching for another cigarette with slightly shaking fingers.

But it was the first time he’d gotten attached right back. He could admit that now. He couldn't deny it, not after his meltdown once Liam left. And especially not after last night with the way he’d attacked Liam like he was drowning and Liam was air.

Zayn lit the cigarette, feeling slightly calmer already.

A part of him wanted to run.

Relationships weren't for him. Zayn meant what he said that night. Nothing good would come out of it.

But he'd been running for the past two weeks and nothing good had come out of that either. He'd lost a bit of weight, since he'd been smoking and drinking more than he'd been eating. His friends had been worried about him. He was in definite need of a visit to the clinic because he'd been safe, but there was only so safe you could be when you'd downed some pills and whatever else and you were drunk off your ass most of the time.

So yeah, his life hadn't exactly improved without Liam.

But to go on a date?

No one would think it, but this wasn't the first time Zayn had thought about what it would be like to date Liam. Like when Liam was talking to someone, completely oblivious to how hard they were flirting with him. To actually have the right to go and wrap his arms around him with a smug smile that said, 'back off, he's taken'. But last night was the first time Zayn allowed himself to follow through with those thoughts. Fully think out the 'what ifs'.

Zayn took a long drag of his cigarette.

The thought of actually dating Liam made his heart race.

Liam's words from that night at the diner kept running through his head. _'We're practically dating already.'_

What was dating anyway? Hanging out? Not sleeping with other people? Zayn could totally do that with Liam. He _had_ been doing that with Liam. Maybe he should take his own advice. Why did he have to be so obsessed with labels anyway?

_Because labels mean something._

Zayn let out an irritated grunt and took one last puff of his cigarette before putting it out as well.

Even if it all went to shit it couldn't get any worse than it was now.

Zayn shut the window, his shoulders slumping heavily.

And he was tired of that persistent ache that accompanied Liam's absence.

Zayn walked over to his bed, mumbling for Louis to shove over as he climbed in next to him. Louis murmured back incoherently and rolled over while Zayn maneuvered himself between Louis and the wall. Zayn curled up, pressing his cold face against Louis’ back and tried to relax.

If anything, Louis' situation had made him see his own clearer.

He didn't want to end up like Louis and Harry. He'd watched them dance around each other for ages and had been in constant amazement at their denial and obliviousness. It seemed so pointless and stupid to Zayn.

Now he just felt like a hypocrite.

Zayn sighed, the tension in his body uncoiling. He threw an arm around Louis and Louis snuggled back into him, still mostly asleep. Zayn yawned, glancing at him with heavy eyes.

If Louis could get over not being straight, then Zayn could go on one measly date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two more chapters and an epilogue
> 
> thanks for reading! and for your kudos and comments :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> head's up that this chapter is a lot shorter than usual. I didn't think it fit with chapter 19 or 21 so it's just kinda hanging out here on its own :)

"—and now he’s in detention for a month. The best part is Mr. Thompson had no idea what to do afterwards! He sort of pretended it didn’t exist so there was just a hairpiece on the floor looking like dead animal.” Niall glanced around the lunch table.

Zayn continued to stare into space, absentmindedly pushing around his food with his fork. Louis and Harry were still engaged in the thing they’d been doing all week where they took turns pretending not to be looking at each other. It was even more pathetic than usual. Niall rolled his eyes.

"Then Ms. Kaur came in and we had a hot, kinky threesome on top of his desk,” he said in a deadpan voice.

There was no response.

Niall tried to push down the hurt feeling at being ignored. His friends had been weird all week. Both Zayn and Liam were staying frustratingly quiet about what had happened at his party last weekend. Niall didn't know anything but what he saw; them making out and Liam storming away a few minutes later. Louis had dodged his texts all Sunday and on Monday it was clear he was hiding something as well.

Niall huffed and kicked Louis in the shin, probably somewhat harder than necessary.

Louis yelped, tearing his gaze away from Harry. He bent over to rub his leg as he glowered at Niall. "What the hell, Niall?"

Niall gave him a sharp, bitter smile. "Just trying to get your attention. You never told me if Eleanor was still coming over after school."

Louis shook his head, still grumbling and rubbing his leg. "No. We broke up."

Niall's face went slack and Louis froze, his eyes growing wide.  "I mean—"

Niall's mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Louis floundered for another second before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Niall frowned seeing Zayn looking completely unsurprised. Now he definitely felt hurt. Since when did Louis tell Zayn things he didn't tell Niall? At least Harry looked surprised.

"When did that happen?" Niall asked. Harry's hand tightened around his can of Coke. Actually, Harry looked less surprised and more like he was entering a state of complete panic.

"Er"—Niall didn't miss the quick glance Louis aimed at Harry out of the corner of his eye—"Sunday? Morning after your party."

Harry paled so quickly Niall wondered if he was going to faint right there at the table.

Niall's eyes narrowed. "You all right there, Harry?"

_Apparently I'm the only one **not** hiding something._

"Fine," Harry squeaked.

Niall rolled his eyes again and shifted his attention back to Louis—who was flushing red just as quickly as Harry was paling.

"You didn't say anything," Niall said. The "to me" was heavily implied.

Louis shrugged. "Didn't really want to talk about it."

Niall turned and gave Zayn a deliberate look. Zayn, at least, had the grace to look sort of apologetic.

"May I ask—" Harry started, his voice still a little squeaky. He cleared his throat. "May I ask why?"

Louis shrugged again, his face beet red. "Didn't really have a reason. Just thought it was time, you know?" He shoveled an entire half of his sandwich in his mouth, clearly desperate to end the conversation. Plus, for someone who could barely take his eyes off Harry normally, he sure seemed to be looking anywhere else but at him right now.

Louis swallowed and glanced at the clock. "Oh looks like lunch is over." People were starting to fill out of the cafeteria. "Gotta get to class. Bye." He grabbed his tray of half eaten food and bolted from the table before Niall could get in another word. Niall glared after him.

Zayn left a second later with a wave over his shoulder. Niall was sorely tempted to throw a temper tantrum like he was five years old. _Some friends._ He sighed and picked up his tray to leave only to turn back around when he noticed Harry wasn't coming as well.

Harry was still seated, staring off at nothing.

Niall put his tray back down, concerned. "Harry? Are you okay?" He was being sarcastic before, but now he was actually a bit worried.

Harry looked ill. "I think—" He swallowed. "I think it was my fault."

"What was?"

"Louis—  Eleanor saw—  I—"

"Lunch is over boys. Head back to class," Mr. James called, looking pointedly at them and several other groups of stragglers. Niall grabbed his tray in one hand and Harry's arm in the other. He pulled a still dazed Harry from his seat and out of the cafeteria, dumping their trays on the way.

Niall was going to find out what the hell was going on if he had to drag it out of each and every one of them.

 

+

 

Louis stopped short as he saw Niall stalking towards him. He’d managed to avoid him and Harry the rest of the day and now he was even slipping out of the back exit to make his way home. Apparently, however, Niall knew him a little too well.

"I really don't want—"

"I'll drop it."

Louis' mouth clicked shut. _What?_ Niall didn't drop things. He came after you like a bloodhound and wouldn't let you up until you gave him everything he wanted to know.

"What?"

"I'll drop it." Niall's expression was stony. "If that's what you want. But"—he shifted his weight, leaning against the wall—"you're my best friend. I've known you since I was six. If something is going on you can tell me. It's fine if you want to keep things to yourself, but did I do something wrong? Because you talked to Zayn and—"

"No, of course not." Louis pulled a face, already feeling guilty. Niall was family. Louis wasn't deliberately trying to keep things from him, much less make him feel like Louis trusted Zayn and not him.

"Then what is it?"

Louis hesitated. "I..."

A loud laugh rang out down the hall and they both flinched slightly. It was only two other students passing by to go out the doors, but it was enough to remind Louis that the middle of the hallway was not where he wanted to be having this discussion.

"I can't."

"Oh. Alright well—"

"No"—Louis grasped Niall's arm before he could turn away—"I do trust you. I just don't want to talk about it now." He glanced around at the rapidly filling hall. "Or _here_."

Niall nodded. He looked a little less wounded and the knot of guilt in Louis' stomach loosened some.

"Soon though," Louis promised. He checked the clock on the wall. "I've got to go get the twins."

"Go on." Niall started to back away. "I'll see you tomorrow anyway."

Louis gave him a small, grateful smile and moved toward the door.

"Best friends, yeah?" Niall said, stopping for a moment. He gave Louis a knowing stare. "You can't tell me anything that would change that."

"Yeah." Louis pushed the door open. "I know." He waved and walked away, wondering how much Niall had already figured out. It wasn’t like Louis didn’t want to talk to him, but he wasn’t sure what he would even say. He'd barely figured it out for himself.

Louis had spent the rest of Sunday after Zayn's sleeping off his hangover, only to wake up Monday morning in a panic when he realized he hadn't decided what he was going to do about Harry at all. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he entered school an hour later, but it certainly wasn't Harry's brief "Hey Lou" before he went back to his conversation with Niall.

It was all so _normal_.

Apparently 'I might be gay and in love with Harry Styles' wasn't actually printed across Louis' forehead.

Of course then he had the naiveté to relax and think that maybe he'd blown the whole thing out of proportion. Maybe he and Harry were just really close in a completely platonic way…

...except two minutes later when Niall and Zayn started bickering like an old married couple (per usual), Harry turned to Louis and gave him that soft smile, the one like they were sharing a secret, with the barest hint of dimple, and Louis had gone warm all over and his heart couldn't seem to remember what a steady beat was…

...and all thoughts of his feelings for Harry being just platonic were in ruins.

Louis sighed aloud as he made his way down the pavement towards his sisters' school.

That was pretty much what it'd been like all week. It was like now that Louis had let go of any hope of only seeing Harry platonically, the floodgates had opened for every little dirty fantasy his 16 year-old mind could come up with.

Needless to say, it was becoming a problem.

Lunch was particularly difficult now that Louis had caught on to Harry's habit of sticking out his tongue whenever he ate _anything_.

There'd been one memorable incident with a pizza where only Zayn kicking him under the table had broken him out of his daze (he could've done without the smug, knowing look Zayn gave him though). Louis had spent the rest of lunchtime red-faced, eyes focused on the table, thinking of every gross thing he could imagine so that when lunch ended he'd be able to stand without embarrassment.

Louis leaned against the gate to Haslington Primary, keeping an eye out as kids started to trickle out the building.

At least there were distractions at school. The same couldn't be said for late at night, lying on his bed in the dark with ample time to let his mind wander in whichever direction it pleased. There were only so many times your best friend could be the main feature in your wank fantasies before you had to admit that maybe "friend" wasn’t the word you were looking for.

Louis spotted the twins and forcibly shoved all thoughts about Harry out of his head. He lifted a hand and waved so they could see him.

"Louis!!" Daisy and Phoebe ran up to him, giggling and clinging to his fingers, tripping over their words to tell him about their day at school.

Louis nodded attentively the entire time as they made their way home. Then for the next few hours, he threw himself into big brother mode, fixing snacks, refereeing Lottie and Felicite's fights, making sure everyone started studying their coursework, until his mum got home.

He should’ve been off to start on his own mountain of reading afterwards, but instead he found himself trailing after his mum, hovering while she moved around the kitchen.

"So. What is it?" Jay asked. She was pulling out some vegetables from the fridge.

Louis shifted awkwardly. He couldn't hide anything from her. "What's what?"

His mum pinned him with an unimpressed look. "You just offered to help me with dinner, love. And you know with our combined skills the food will only end up tasting twice as bad. So." She handed him some carrots and celery before pulling out a package of beef and going over to the hob.

Louis sighed and dropped them onto the worktop. He got out the cutting board and a knife.

"What's up?" Jay asked. She dropped the cubes of beef into a large pot, staring down at it suspiciously. "Why the face?"

"It's nothing." Louis focused on cutting the vegetables and not his fingers. He could almost feel his mum rolling her eyes at him.

"Okay. How was school?" She sidled up next to him, grabbing another knife to start cutting the potatoes.

"Fine."

"You haven't gotten in another fight with Harry have you?"

Louis' shoulders tensed. "No."

"What about Niall? Zayn?" Jay continued cutting, occasionally scooping up the potatoes and dumping them into a large bowl.

"No mum, we're fine," Louis said with a tinge of exasperation. He added his carrots into the bowl as well.

"How about Eleanor?"

He hesitated and his mum pounced, barely pausing her knife. "So it's Eleanor. I haven't seen her around much this week."

Louis took a deep breath. "That's because we broke up." He started chopping the celery.

Jay set down her knife and wrapped an arm around him, placing a kiss atop his head. "Oh Louis. I'm sorry."

Louis shrugged. "It's fine."

"Oh?" Jay raised her eyebrows, leaning back a little to look at him. She lifted her arm from his shoulders and went back to the potatoes. "Is there someone else you had your eye on then?"

"I..." He let out a ragged breath. This was his mum. She was the one that was always there for him. This shouldn't be hard.

"Louis?" Jay was frowning slightly and her hand covered his own, stilling it. Louis let go of the knife he'd been using to chop the celery. He hadn't realized his hands were shaking.

Louis knew that his mother had accepted Zayn just fine when Louis told her years ago, but it was different when it was your own kid. Right? His dad, on the other hand, didn't quite embrace it like his mum—but then it wasn't like he was around anymore so that really didn't matter, now did it.

"I... maybe? They might have... beenthereasonwebrokeup." Louis swallowed. "And the beef is burning."

Jay's eyes widened and she whirled around. "Shit." She turned off the hob and moved the pot off the burner. Louis came to stand next to her, picking up the wooden spoon and poking at the meat. It looked salvageable, if not a little crispy round the edges.

"Well"—Jay tilted her head as if the beef would miraculously change from different angle—"It was supposed to be browning. That looks... brown?"

Louis snorted.

Jay shrugged and opened a can of beef broth, adding it to the pot. "So this person…" She turned the burner back on low. "They must be pretty important if you broke up over them."

Louis' heartbeat sped up again and he started stirring the pot to distract himself. "Yeah."

"And do I know this special someone?"

"Ah, it's"— Louis chewed the inside of his lip, staring down into the stew—"Harry."

"Styles?"

Louis nodded, not trusting his voice. When Jay didn't say anything else however, he risked a glance at her. She was leaning against the worktop, just staring at him, a hint of a smile on her face.

At his look she straightened and picked up the bowl of vegetables."Well I suppose that makes sense," she said, pouring the contents into the pot.

Louis let go of the spoon, looking at her with wide eyes. "It does? But he's—" Louis' broke off, his cheeks flushing.

"Sure it does." Jay put the empty bowl into the sink and turned her full attention towards him. "Honestly, I don't think I've seen you look at anyone the way you look at him."

"I would've thought you two were together from the beginning if it wasn't for Harry's constant pitiful pining face. Really you have to put the boy out of his misery." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Have you told him?"

Louis shook his head, slumping against the worktop. "No."

"Why not?"

He hesitated, opening and shutting his mouth before giving up and shrugging his shoulders.

Jay made a tsking noise and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Louis, you know that I'll love you no matter what,” she said, echoing Zayn and Niall’s words from before. “You'll always be my little Boobear."

Louis scrunched up his nose at the nickname, his face pressed against her shoulder. "Mum," he whined. It was so embarrassing.

Jay ignored his protest, running a hand through his hair. "Harry likes you. And I've always taught you to go after what you want." She cupped Louis' chin so that he was looking up at her. "Don't miss out on this just because you're scared."

Louis nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He sighed, pulling out of her arms with a tiny smile. "I'll figure it out."

Jay smiled back. "Good." She picked up the lid for the pot and frowned down at the stew.

Louis peered at it over her shoulder. "I think we probably forgot something."

Jay sighed. "Always do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!!!!! *tears* hope you guys like it :)
> 
> cw for implied/referenced domestic abuse and a miniscule bit of blood/first aid

Zayn grimaced and wiped his sweaty palms across the front of his jeans. He was standing in front of his closed bedroom door, staring at his reflection in the full length mirror.

_I can't believe I'm doing this._

He exhaled harshly and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

_Am I doing this?_

Zayn was supposed to be getting ready for his date with Liam. And technically he'd been ready for the past 20 minutes. And he should have left five minutes ago like he’d planned.

Instead he had yet to even leave his bedroom.

Zayn rolled his eyes in irritation before twisting from side to side, examining his outfit.

It wasn't anything special really. Skinny jeans and boots. His usual leather jacket.

It said comfortable, without being grungy. It said 'I look hot—but I do so effortlessly'.

His hair was perfect.

There was nothing else to do. He just needed to _leave_.

Zayn didn't move.

It was useless. He was useless. This was never going to work. He eyed his outfit critically again.

_Am I supposed to dress up or something?_

It was only the movies. Zayn bit his lip, casting a sideways glance at his wardrobe. But did Liam expect him to dress up?

Zayn's heart leapt to his throat as he felt his mobile vibrate from inside his pocket. _Is that him now? Am I really that late already? What if he's canceling?_

Zayn fumbled for his phone. His shoulders relaxed a little when he saw it was a text from Niall.

**_Where are u??? You're coming over tonight right?_ **

Zayn hesitated, his fingers hovering over the screen before typing out a response.

_No sry. Can't._

He sent it and a reply came back almost instantaneously.

**_Plz plz plz. You can't leave me with harry and louis all night. They won't stop making sad eyes at each other._ **

The corner of Zayn's lips twitched in a smile. He could perfectly imagine Niall groaning in exasperation while Harry and Louis gave each other longing looks out the corner of their eyes, filling the room with unresolved sexual tension and mutual pining.

Zayn's smile dropped and he walked over to his bed, sitting down heavily. They weren't going to be the only pining ones if Zayn didn't get himself together.

Loathe as he was to admit it, Zayn might’ve needed some help with this one. A pep talk, a friendly ear, a supportive shoulder, anything. He hadn't told anyone about his plans to go on a date with Liam. Niall had pestered him to find out what had happened after Liam left the party, but Zayn clammed up and made Niall swear not to mention what he saw to the others. And as far as Zayn knew Liam hadn't said anything either.

Zayn hadn't even told _Liam_ he was going. Then again, it wasn't like Liam had really _asked_. The most he'd done since the party was text Zayn the name of the cinema and a time. Zayn hadn't replied.

His mobile buzzed again.

**_Zaynnnnn. Plzzzzzz._ **

Zayn typed out a response quickly and sent it before he could change his mind.

_Sry rly can't. I have a date._

Niall would know what to do. He always had a way of getting Zayn out of his head and making him see things more clearly.

**_Yeah sure ok.  With who?_ **

Zayn clutched his phone, waiting for what felt like an eternity for Niall to respond. Finally, after eons, his mobile began to vibrate, this time with a call.

He took a deep breath and pressed the answer button. "Hello?"

"Like a date-date?" Niall asked immediately. "Like food, activity, hand holding, not just sex, date?"

"Reel Cinemas. 6:30," Zayn said, clutching his mobile tightly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"That's great."

Zayn let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. This was why he loved Niall. He knew exactly when Zayn needed someone not to make a big deal out of something.

"Yeah?" Zayn asked, allowing a little of his uncertainty to creep into his voice.

"Yeah," Niall replied without missing a beat. "Wait, where are you?"

Zayn pulled a face, twisting the bottom edge of his jacket between his fingers. Another 'great' thing about Niall was that he was perceptive as hell and could cut to the quick of a problem without you even having to say anything. "My room."

"Isn't the cinema like fifteen minutes away? Shouldn't you be leaving—"

"I know," Zayn snapped, unable to stop his irritation from lashing out.

There was another pause from Niall's end. Zayn switched his mobile to his other ear and wiped his hand across his jeans. His palms were starting to sweat again.

"It's just the cinema. You've done it before."

"Yeah, but not like this. Not"—Zayn's voice dropped to a mumble—"on a date."

"It's still only Liam. Same Liam as before. Stop over-thinking everything."

Zayn let go of his jacket, some of the tension in his body loosening. Niall was right. He was over-thinking this. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Besides you two don't want to end up like Tweedledee and Tweedledum over here, do you?"

Zayn let out a huff of laughter. He thought of Louis, lying on his bedroom floor last weekend, drunk and blushing as they talked about Harry. "Nah," Zayn said quietly, "I think they'll figure it out soon enough."

"Yeah, I hope so." He could practically hear Niall rolling his eyes. "Now go. Leave your house. Have a smoke to calm you down on the way over if you have too. Whatever. Just _go_."

"Yeah, okay." Zayn stood and walked out of his bedroom, pointedly not thinking about what he was doing or where he was going. "Bye."

"Good luck."

Zayn hung up as he closed the front door behind him.

_It's just Liam._

He repeated that to himself the entire way to the cinema.

 

+

 

Liam stared blankly at a movie poster for some new comedy film, fighting the strong urge to pace.

_I knew I shouldn't have gotten here so early._

Even though there'd been plenty of time, Liam had rushed all the way here from the bus station. He was oddly disappointed when he didn't find Zayn already waiting for him with open arms and hearts in his eyes. It wasn't like he’d been expecting some dramatic reunion rom-com style... but he sort of had been. A little bit.

He folded his arms and anxiously glanced around, accidently catching the eye of a couple standing a few feet away. He gave them a quick, awkward smile before turning back to face the movie poster. _Can they tell I'm waiting for a date? Are they already thinking I've been stood up?_

He pulled out his mobile and checked the time. _6:24_. Zayn would be here soon.

_If he's even coming at all._

Liam swallowed and pushed that thought back down.

Any other time he would've gotten an early bus and waited at Harry's until it was time for the movie, but this time Harry had no idea he was even in Haslington. Liam hadn't told him about the date. He hadn't even told Harry about going to Niall's party. This was between Liam and Zayn.

And frankly, if no else knew, Liam could pretend this wasn't a big deal. That it wouldn't matter if Zayn never showed. He could pretend he wasn't hoping for anything.

He checked the time again.

_6:32_

Zayn was late.  Liam tried to ignore the cold ball of dread forming in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't even know what had possessed him to pretty much demand a date from Zayn that night. He’d just been so frustrated (in more ways than one). And he thought—he'd hoped—that maybe Zayn wanted this too.

Liam stood a little straighter, his back stiffening. He had planned for this. _I can wait until 6:50, but not longer than that. After that I have to leave._

He could go see the movie by himself or he could go home, but no matter what he was not going to wait around all night for Zayn to show up.

Liam didn't know if his resolve would still be as strong when 6:50 rolled around.

_Why am I even expecting him to show in the first place?_

It wasn't like he'd heard from Zayn at all. Liam had sent him a text yesterday, but "Reel Cinemas. 6:30." wasn’t exactly something that inspired a response. Deep down Liam knew he was avoiding asking Zayn outright. But a question meant Zayn could say no. And call it selfish, but Liam didn't want to give him that chance.

Liam huffed, pulling his coat closer around him. But obviously he hadn't thought this through well enough because Zayn certainly had the opportunity to say no now. And worse yet, now Liam had no idea if Zayn had even considered coming on this date. Basically he was only out here on faith and trust—

"—and a little pixie dust," he muttered.

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

Liam's breath caught. He whirled around. And there was Zayn, standing in front of him looking fantastic and a tiny bit nervous.

_He's here._

"Zayn." Liam couldn't help smiling brightly as relief and happiness swept through him. He knew his eyes were probably doing that crinkly thing his sisters like to tease him about, but he didn't care, because Zayn was _here_.

Apparently the smiling was a good thing though because it made Zayn visibly relax. Zayn gave him a small smile in return and then was crowding into Liam's space, pulling at the front of his coat and tugging him forward into a kiss.

His eyes slid closed as one of Zayn's hands came up to cup his cheek. Liam inhaled deeply, falling even closer into Zayn. He smelled familiar, like leather and a bit of tobacco and his slightly spicy cologne Liam could never remember the name of. It was just so _Zayn_ —Liam had to fight back another smile.

Instead he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Zayn's waist. Zayn gave a pleased hum and moved his hand from Liam's face, putting both arms around his neck. Eventually Zayn broke away, pulling back to look at Liam.

"Hi," he said softly.

Liam couldn't seem to stop grinning. "Hi." The two stared at each other for a few more seconds before Liam cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping back. "Uh, so I should probably go get the tickets, the movie starts soon."

Zayn nodded. "I'll get some popcorn." Liam gave a decisive nod in return and they parted ways to their respective queues.

They met up afterwards, Liam relieving Zayn of one of the sodas and giving their tickets to the attendant. They got seats near the back, right as the lights were going down. The theater was pretty sparse—they were seeing some action film that had already been out for a few weeks.

The previews came and went with barely a word from Zayn and a few minutes into the movie Liam couldn't help but glance at him anxiously. Things weren't tense exactly, but it didn't feel as relaxed as he would've liked.

Zayn turned his head, catching him staring; Liam had never been good at being subtle. Zayn didn't seem all that bothered however and tilted the bag of popcorn towards him. Liam took a few pieces, popping them into his mouth. Zayn's eyes were already sliding back towards the screen.

_Maybe he's just really into the movie._

Liam tried to focus on the screen.  A man and a woman were arguing about something. Dinner, maybe. Or possibly giant robots.

Zayn and Liam had been to the movies together before, but always with other friends around. Usually it was a lot more fun than this—Zayn had an inability to sit through an entire movie without making sarcastic comments under his breath while Liam simultaneously tried to shush him and contain his own laughter. More importantly, by now they would’ve given into the temptation of the darkness, with teasing hands turning into quick kisses that spiraled into a heated make out session.

Liam wasn't sure if he was holding back or Zayn was. And by the time the film ended he was pretty sure he couldn't name a single plot point.

"So," Liam started as they went out the front doors, "I was thinking—"

"I hate this."

His stomach plummeted and from Zayn's wince the dejection probably showed on his face.

"No I mean—" Zayn tugged roughly at his jacket and then his shoulders slumped abruptly. "Yeah. I hate this."

Liam could feel his daydreams of couplehood slipping through his fingers.

"I hate how..." Zayn glanced around suspiciously as if the other moviegoers milling around were waiting specifically to listen in on the intimate details of their non-relationship. He grabbed Liam's elbow, tugging him around to the side of the building.

Liam pulled his arm away and leaned against the brick wall.

"I hate how it makes me"—Zayn's jaw visibly clenched—"feel." His expression softened and he looked at Liam with something akin to pleading. "I don't know how to do this. Any of it. This isn't me. I'm _nervous."_ He spat out the word like it was filthy.

Liam frowned. He got nervous sometimes, he was pretty sure everyone did. It wasn't as if he liked it, but the emotion seemed almost offensive to Zayn.

"I keep second guessing everything," Zayn continued. "Like if the conversation is okay. Or if we should be holding hands. If I'm still allowed to kiss you. And I don't know!  And my stupid palms haven't stopped sweating since I left my house." He grimaced, looking down at his hands and rubbing them against his jeans in a furious fashion.  It was a habitual movement Liam had seen throughout the night, but he hadn't thought anything of it until now.

He felt blindsided.  Zayn was nervous. Zayn, who never seemed fazed by anything, was nervous about going on a date with _Liam_. Liam tapped down on urge to smile indulgently. It was actually kind of adorable. And so unnecessary.

Liam leaned forward and gently grasped both of Zayn's hands, moving them away from his jeans and holding them in his own. He pulled Zayn towards him until they were only inches apart. "You don't have to be nervous with me." Liam kissed him softly. "And of course we can kiss. It's dating, not joining a monastery."

Zayn groaned, burying his face in the crook of Liam's neck. "This isn't me," he said finally. "I don't know how to do this. I'm _good_ at casual. I'm good at _sex_. I give fantastic head by the way, not that you would know." He sighed, sounding frustrated. "Why the hell would you want to date me anyway? I'm not good at this. I have no idea what I'm doing."

Liam's frown had been deepening as Zayn talked. He hadn't realized Zayn felt that way. "You know I'm not just interested in you because of the physical stuff right? I mean that's great too, but you didn't manage to be the first guy I’ve kissed only because of how you looked."

Zayn's face was still buried in Liam’s neck and Liam cupped the back of his head with one hand, trying to get him to look up. "I like you. I want to date you because I like you, not because, er- you give fantastic head," he muttered the last part, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Zayn relented at that, looking up and giving him a filthy grin.

Liam rolled his eyes and then gave Zayn a sincere look. "I want to date all of you. Even the nervous, broody, cynical parts."

Zayn glanced down and away, like he wasn't sure what to do with that. "Why'd you come back? I thought you were dating _Danielle."_

"I missed you," Liam said simply. "And I was, for a bit. Until I realized I wasn't over you and probably wouldn't be for a while. And then Harry told me that you might not be as against this as you told me."

Zayn didn't say anything to that and Liam gathered the courage to ask what had been on his mind the entire week. "Why did you lie?"

 

+

 

"Why did you lie?"

The question came out soft, like Liam had been afraid to ask it.

Still, it made Zayn flinch in irritation. "I didn't lie. I didn't like the idea. I still don't. Relationships are bad news."

"Then why did you even—"

"Because I missed you," Zayn cut in, echoing Liam's words from before. He shrugged. "Because as bad of an idea I think this is, it probably won’t be worse than the past two weeks."

Zayn leaned back into Liam, breathing slowly. Even if this ended horribly it was good to feel Liam pressed against him again. "Because maybe it'll be different with you?" Zayn tacked on a moment later, letting his voice be muffled by Liam's neck.

"I don't get it though. Why are you so against this? We were dating before, don't bother denying it this time."

"It was different then. I could do what I wanted. I could get out of it when I wanted."

Liam was quiet and Zayn pulled away to look at him. Liam's brow was furrowed in confusion. "But. You can get out of this when you want..."

Zayn pressed his lips together, saying nothing. It wasn't exactly marriage, but dating was a Big Deal. Being someone's boyfriend was a Big Deal. It was commitment. You couldn't just get out of something like that, not easily.

The corner of Liam's mouth twitched and Zayn couldn't tell whether it was meant to be a smile or a grimace.

"Babe, it's not a life sentence." Liam was speaking slowly as if he wanted to make sure Zayn got every word. "If you ever don't want to anymore, we can just stop."

Zayn blinked.

"I can't make you keep dating me."

_Yes you could._

Liam scrunched his nose. "And I wouldn't want to." He looked disgusted at the very idea.

Zayn frowned. Not for the first time he felt like he and Liam were speaking two different languages.

"Relationships..." Zayn tried to find the words that would make Liam understand. "Labels. It's like being boxed in. I don't like it. You saying what I can do. How can I act. Who I can sleep with."

"Christ, Zayn," Liam looked away from him, running a hand through his hair. "You make it sound like I'm trying to control you or something."

"Well wouldn't you be?"

"What? No." Liam’s eyes snapped back to his. "No," he repeated more empathically. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at Zayn wide-eyed. "No wonder you've been avoiding this. This, us, we're in this together. Equals. I don't make the 'rules'. _We_ do. And I don't want to _make_ you do anything." He bit his lip. "Not even date me, if you don't want to," he said in a small voice.

Zayn exhaled audibly, his body slumping like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He felt sort of off-kilter, but he was getting the idea that this wasn't supposed to make him powerless. That dating Liam didn't necessarily mean being controlled by him. And more importantly, Zayn could leave, anytime he wanted.

Sometimes, more often than he would like actually, Zayn had to remind himself that he wasn't thirteen anymore.

_We're in this together._

"I just really like you," Liam continued and Zayn thought he'd never stop being amazed at how easily Liam said stuff like that. "And yeah, sex doesn't have to equal feelings, but every time I thought of you being with someone else I kept thinking"—Liam ducked his head—"I kept thinking that I wasn’t enough. That you didn't like me enough. At least not how much I liked you. I was hoping that this time around it could be only the two of us." His voice had gotten steadily quieter as he talked.

Zayn wanted the despondent look on Liam's face to disappear and never come back. "I wasn't with anyone else when we were together," Zayn admitted.

Liam raised his head. "Really?"

"Yeah. I guess I just didn't want to anymore? I wasn't really interested."

Liam flushed, but it was a pleased, rather than embarrassed expression. Zayn rolled his eyes, nudging him with his shoulder. It wouldn't do for him to get too big of a ego.

"That's all I want."

Zayn pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly. Liam meant well, but Zayn knew he wanted more than just Zayn not sleeping with other people. He wanted the 'whole package'.

_And I'm going to give it to him aren't I?_

"That," Zayn said, returning his smile, "and the handholding." He cocked his head, looking pointedly at their hands that somehow had remained interlocked the entire time.

"And the handholding," Liam conceded. "And the potentially romantic outside activities with only the two us that we don't have to call dates if you don't want to. And the making out." Liam leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn returned the kiss thoroughly before pulling away, just enough so their lips barely brushed. "No," he breathed, "can't forget that." His mouth twisted into a wicked grin as he slotted his leg between Liam's. "And maybe more."

Liam nodded. "Yeah"—his breath hitched as Zayn shifted his thigh—"maybe more," he said, sounding a bit breathless.

Zayn's grin widened and he drew Liam in for another kiss, this one quite a bit filthier than before and involving a lot more tongue.

Liam broke away with a gasp when one of Zayn's hands snuck down to grope his ass. "But not here," he hissed, eyes wide and glancing furtively around.

Zayn laughed, but pulled back anyway. Sex in a darkened alley was a little too cliché for him anyway.  Liam relaxed back against the wall and Zayn's laughter petered off. They were left in comfortable silence, Zayn regarding Liam with a soft look.

Liam kept still, letting him.

Several moments passed and then Zayn swallowed tightly. "We make the rules. Together."

An excited glimmer started to build in Liam's eyes. He nodded. "Exactly."

"Well"—Zayn looked down at their interlocked fingers and gripped Liam's hand tighter—"Come on then. Let's head over to Niall's. Apparently he needs someone to save him from Harry and Louis: A Study in Pining, Part II."

He tugged Liam closer to him.

_In for a penny, in for a pound._

"Besides, I suppose I have a new boyfriend to show off anyway."

And Liam beamed like Zayn had found a way to bring Christmas early and Zayn thought that maybe he never wanted Liam to stop looking at him like that. And that kind of scared the hell out of him, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

 

+

 

“Oh! In your face!” Next to him Dan did a victory dance involving waving his arms around and weird hips gyrations without getting up from the sofa.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay I lost, no need to rub it in.”

Dan shook his head sadly. “You didn't just lose Harry, you lost _badly_. Besides what are friends for if not to gloat over your pitiful gaming skills?”

Harry pouted and stood up. “Alright, who's next? Louis, did you—”

“Thank you,” Matt said, coming up behind Harry and plucking the controller out of his hand. He flopped down into Harry's now open seat. “And your boyfriend isn't here. Walked off somewhere a while ago.”

Harry blushed lightly at the boyfriend comment. With the way they were so close it wasn't the first time someone had referenced Louis as his boyfriend. Their friends were only joking around, but it still hit a little too close to home for Harry sometimes.

“Whatever,” he muttered. Dan and Matt's eyes were already glued to the tv, starting up another game. Harry picked up his beer from the floor and went to search for Louis.

They were at Niall's again, per usual. For once he wasn't actually throwing a party, but on weekends people tended to show up anyway, going in and out, just hanging around. It wasn't very crowded as Harry drifted towards the kitchen, but there was still no sign of Louis that he could see.

Harry frowned, trying to remember if he’d mentioned he was leaving. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Niall for awhile either. And Zayn hadn't shown up at all.

Harry took another sip of his drink, wandering about the house.

He was pretty sure something was up with both Zayn and Liam. One, Liam was terrible at being sneaky in general and two, Zayn’s behavior had done a complete 180 this past week. Harry was pretty sure the two things weren’t a coincidence, but he hadn't pried. One of them would tell him when they were ready.

Harry stepped out into the back garden. There were a few guys kicking around a football, but none of them were Louis. Harry frowned. He'd checked everywhere on the ground floor now.

_Louis wouldn't go home without telling me would he?_ Harry ducked back past the living room to start up the stairs. No one usually went up there, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

He stopped at the top of the stairway. It seemed deserted, but there were muffled voices coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hall. Harry approached the door quietly. With his luck, it wasn't Louis at all and he was about to burst in on some unfortunate couple.

The door was cracked open and now Harry could clearly hear it was Louis and Niall talking in hushed tones. Harry felt guilty and sort of silly lurking outside the room. He should just go in, these were his friends, it wasn't like they were hiding something. That or he should leave and wait for them to come back downstairs. But he should not, under any circumstances, eavesdrop.

Harry cocked his ear closer to the door.

“Well at least we can let Harry know he wasn't wrong. He's been convinced the break up was his fault ever since you told us.”

Harry's cheeks burned. He’d told Niall that in _confidence_. Not so he could go and blab to Louis about it. Niall had been the one to calm Harry down in the first place. The one who convinced him he was overreacting.

And Harry had believed him. Louis seemed fine after the break up and hadn't started treating Harry any differently. And despite Caroline's little texts of suggestions, Harry was not planning on moving in on Louis just because Eleanor was gone.

“Really?” Louis asked. “So he knows?”

Harry worried his bottom lip with his teeth. _Knows what?_ There was an uncomfortable twist in his stomach—the kind that usually comes whenever you find someone you trusted talking about you behind your back.

“Nah, he's got no idea. He thought Eleanor found out about his gigantic crush on you is all.”

Louis groaned and Harry heard a soft thud. It was probably Louis flopping back onto the bed in his usual dramatic fashion. “Nialler, I have tried _everything_. Nothing works. Even my best stuff. Apparently I already treat him like my boyfriend. He hasn't noticed at all.”

Harry's sharp intake of breath was covered up by Niall's bark of laughter.

_What?_

“Oh shut up,” Louis grumbled.

“C'mon, you have to admit it's a little funny,” Niall said, still chuckling.

There was a short silence where Harry was sure Louis was pouting. Harry's grip around the neck of his beer bottle tightened.

“Have you tried talking to him? You know, actually using your words?”

“No. Words are stupid.” Louis was definitely pouting.

“No, they're clear and direct"—Niall's voice dropped to a mumble—“and I won't have to listen to your high-pitched whining anymore.”

Louis sighed. “Well what am I supposed to say? I can't just walk up to him and go 'Hey Hazza, guess what? I'm pretty sure I'm gay and sorta in love with you.'“

_Oh my god._

Harry's grip on his bottle loosened. It fell from his hand and glanced off the doorknob, shattering on the hardwood floor.

“Oh my god,” Harry murmured. _Louis— Louis said— He—_

There was a scrambling in the room and the door swung open revealing an equally shocked Louis and a surprised, but amused looking Niall.

Niall smirked. “Well this is unexpected.”

Harry parted his lips, but no words came out. His mouth snapped closed, teeth clicking against each other. He swallowed and looked down, seeing the mess of beer and glass at his feet. It was like he was moving through a fog. None of it felt real.

Harry crouched down, picking up the biggest piece of the broken bottle. He swallowed again. “Sorry, I just—” He noticed in a distracted sort of way that his hands were trembling. “I can clean— shit.” Harry flinched at the sharp pain that managed to break through his haze and dropped the piece of glass he'd been reaching for.

He heard Niall sigh and then the other boy was crouched down in front of him.

“Why don't you take Harry to the bathroom, Lou. There should be some first aid stuff in the medicine cabinet,” he said. Niall gently took the piece of bottle away from Harry. “Louis.” He looked up. “Louis!”

 

+

 

“Louis!”

Louis jolted at Niall's voice, his eyes snapping away from where he’d been staring at the top of Harry's head.

“Oh, right. Ye- yeah sure,” he stammered, clumsily making his way around them and the broken glass. He walked the few feet to the bathroom down the hall and waited by the door. He took a few deep breaths, watching Harry rise from the floor out the corner of his eye.

_How is this my life?_

Louis averted his eyes as Harry approached him and made a jerky movement with his arm, motioning toward the toilet. “Sit.”

Harry ducked into the bathroom and Louis followed him in, shutting the door behind them. He immediately regretted it. Now he felt trapped.

His hand was still hovering over the doorknob.

_But it'll look weird if I open it again, right? Like I'm afraid to be alone in a room with him._

Slowly, Louis pulled his hand away.

_I **am** afraid to be alone in a room with him._

He held back a groan. _This is not how this was supposed to go._ Louis wasn't sure _how_ he'd expected it to go, but it was not like this.

Harry stared at him from his seat on the toilet lid, his index finger held up awkwardly. Blood was starting to trickle from the small cut.

Louis grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and thrust it at his uninjured hand. “Here. For the the—” He made a flailing motion towards Harry's finger.

Louis hadn't been this awkward around Harry since—well since he'd tried to apologize at Niall's party just before they became friends. Talk about coming full circle. And once again it was all Niall's fault. If he hadn't made Louis feel so guilty about not telling him what was going on—

Louis opened the medicine cabinet and stared blankly inside while Harry pressed the tissue paper to his cut.

_I'm not ready for this. I don't know what to say._

His hands tightened around the edge of the sink, squeaking against the vanity. It hadn't escaped his notice that Harry hadn't said anything either.

_What if he's changed his mind? What if—_

“Lou?”

Louis blinked rapidly, tearing himself away from his thoughts. “Right. Sorry.”

He grabbed an antiseptic packet, antibiotic cream, and a plaster and went to sit on the edge of the bath facing Harry. He dropped the first aid stuff onto his lap. “Lemme see.”

Harry held out his finger and Louis grasped it gently, cupping Harry's hand with his own.

He swallowed. “It doesn't look like there's any glass in it.”

“No.” Harry's voice was soft. “I don't think so.”

Louis was biting the inside of his cheek, keeping his eyes firmly focused on his task. He ripped open the antiseptic wipe and ran it over the cut. Harry winced, his hand clenching slightly.

“Sorry," Louis mumbled. He tossed the wipe in the bin and unscrewed the tube of antibiotic cream.

He could feel the weight of Harry's gaze on him as he went about it and he did his best not to fidget.  It wasn't easy. The silence was like an actual force pressing in at them from all sides.

Louis put a bit of cream over the cut as gently as he could. It wasn't very big, but it was probably best to put the plaster on anyway. Dutifully, he tore open the package.

He wasn't 100% sure why he was playing nursemaid in the first place, but Harry wasn't complaining and Louis needed something to do with his hands. He placed the bandage on Harry's finger carefully and when he was done he let out a shaky sigh as if he'd just successfully diffused a bomb and not simply put a plaster on a mate's finger.

Louis studied his handy work. “There.” And before he could over-think it, he dropped a quick peck on Harry's finger and released his hand. He missed the warmth immediately. “All better.” His eyes rose to meet Harry’s.

Harry's face was flushed slightly, but for once Louis couldn't read his expression.

Louis tore his eyes away and stood, putting the cream back in the cabinet. He started to wash his hands.

“Lou.”

Louis froze.

_Oh god here it is. He's going to reject me. 'You had your chance.' 'You're too late.' 'Thanks, but no thanks.'_

“I'm sorry about eavesdropping. I didn't mean to, but, well, I shouldn't have. Sorry.”

Louis shut off the tap and dried his hands on a towel. _Time to face the music._

He rocked back on his heels, turning to face Harry. “Doesn't matter.” He gave him a weak smile. “The truth had to come out sometime right?”

“So you— you meant it?” Harry was attempting to keep his tone neutral, but Louis thought he could hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

He hesitated. This was the moment.

_I could take it back. I could tell him I was joking._

He stared at Harry.

_Everything could go back to how it was._

“Yeah. Of course I meant it. Every bit of it.”

Louis didn't want things to go back to how they were. And if he had any sort of a chance with Harry then he had to take it.

Harry was staring at him with wide eyes. “But I thought- Eleanor- I thought you were straight.”

Louis slumped against the bathroom door. “So did I?” He took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his torso. “But I guess I'm not as straight as I thought.”

Harry stood and Louis could see a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Because... you like me?”

Louis nodded, his cheeks warm. “Because I like you.”

Harry took a step closer to him. “And not just as friends?”

Louis let out a quiet huff. “Definitely not just as friends. He broke eye contact and licked his lips, glancing down. “It just took me awhile to figure it out.”

Louis looked back up and inhaled sharply. Harry was right in front of him and his hint of a smile had bloomed into a full-fledged grin.

“I wasn't sure if,” Louis continued, trying to catch his breath.

Harry leaned in even closer, his eyes still locked on Louis as he wrapped his arms around Louis' waist.

“I-” Louis' hands clutched Harry's shoulders. “I didn't know if you still…” He trailed off, breathless. In all honesty he wasn't sure why he was even still talking, but judging from the fond look on Harry's face, the other boy didn't mind.

Harry kept leaning towards him until Louis instinctively closed his eyes. He could feel warm air blow across his lips with Harry's every breath. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to crash out of his chest.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked. His thumbs were making tiny circles on Louis' hips.

Every inch of Louis’ body was tingling, hypersensitive, and nothing had even happened yet.

Louis nodded with his eyes still closed and he didn't really even know what he was agreeing to, except how he kind of did because what else could Harry be asking, but he couldn't think properly with Harry _so close_ and then—

And then Louis didn't have to think at all because Harry's lips were covering his. The angle was a bit awkward at first, mainly because Louis' brain had yet to catch up with the proceedings. But when it did, Louis tilted his head and shyly moved his mouth against Harry’s in return.

He felt Harry's shoulders relax under his hands because apparently he was nervous too and for some reason that made Louis want to laugh. He didn’t though because now Harry was sucking Louis' bottom lip into his mouth and deepening the kiss and—

Louis groaned quietly. _Oh yeah. Definitely not straight._

Someone banged on the door and they broke apart, eyes flying open. Louis could feel the door rattling against his back.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Niall called. “Wrap it before you tap it.” A condom wrapper slid underneath the door echoed by Niall’s loud laughter ringing from down the hall.

Harry and Louis look down and then at each other before bursting out into laughter. Harry's face was flushed and Louis knew he was probably blushing as well. Louis relaxed against the door again and moved his arms to wrap around Harry's neck. He watched as Harry's laughter petered off and he licked his lips, a small smile still on his face.

_Christ he's beautiful. How the hell did I miss this?_

Harry's smile widened, almost as if he could hear Louis' thoughts and he leaned forward again, giving Louis a soft kiss. “I've wanted to do that since my first day when I saw you outside the headmaster's office,” Harry murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I thought you were gorgeous. And then I got to know you and I found out you were funny”–he pressed a small kiss to the corner of Louis' mouth–“and daring”–his lips brushed across Louis' cheek and pressed another kiss to the bottom of his jaw–“and clever”–he dropped a kiss on Louis' neck, just below his ear–“and gorgeous.” Harry nipped the spot gently.

“I think you already mentioned that one,” Louis said. He was panting slightly, his mouth parted as he tilted his head to give Harry more room.

“Oh.” Harry sounded unconcerned as he picked a new place to mark on Louis' neck. “Did I?” He bit down and Louis' gasped, his hips jerking forward reflexively.

Louis flushed and he could feel Harry smirking against his neck. He pulled away and cupped Harry's cheek with one hand, bringing him back to his face.

Harry was still smirking at him while he tightened his arms around Louis' waist. His gaze softened as Louis' eyes flickered down to Harry's mouth and up again.

Swallowing down the new wave of butterflies in his stomach, Louis darted forward to place a quick peck on Harry's lips. And another one and another until he pressed forward completely, his mouth moving almost desperately against Harry's. Harry responded with enthusiasm, clinging to Louis tightly.

It felt like ages and still not long enough when they finally pulled apart. Louis rested his forehead against Harry's.

“Well,” he said, trying and failing not to sound out of breath, “now you can kiss me anytime you want.”

Harry grinned, his thumbs rubbing small circles against Louis' hips again. “I like the way that sounds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, okay. so that's that. there will be an epilogue and it's way longer than I planned (like this whole damn fic haha) :D here's my [tumblr](http://beckonedbyhopes.tumblr.com)!
> 
> as always thank you for reading!! xoxo


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so of course when I'm ONE chapter away I get slammed with work. I thought I wasn't going to be able to get this out until monday night! but I've since rearranged my priorities haha. there's so much I want to say, but I know if I start I'm not going to stop so here you go. hope you like it!
> 
> cw for references to past domestic abuse and some self-blame; themes of homophobia including use of a homophobic slur.

It starts like this—

“I know something you don't know,” Waliyha sing-songed.

Doniya rolled her eyes, poking at her dinner sullenly. “Shut up, no one wants to play that game.”

“Don't tell your sister to shut up,” Yaser scolded absentmindedly.

Waliyha stuck her tongue out at her older sister.

The youngest, Safaa, was fidgeting in her seat, looking about with wide eyes. “I want to know!”

Yaser sighed. “Waliyha, either tell us or don't mention it.”

Doniya stuck her tongue back out in retaliation. Their mum caught Doniya and silently raised a judging eyebrow. Doniya slumped in her seat.

“But I _do_ know something you don't know,” Waliyha said, pouting.

Doniya huffed. “Oh my god, Liyha, no one cares.”

“I want to know!” Safaa repeated. Her little face was starting to do that scrunchy thing that signaled full on screeching would be next.

“Liyha...” Yaser started warningly.

“It's about Zayn.”

Zayn froze, his hand outstretched in an attempt to sneak the last breadstick from the bowl in the middle of the table.

Doniya pulled a face and grabbed it straight from beneath his fingers. She took a gleeful bite out of it, smiling widely.

Zayn withdrew his arm and frowned at her. He wondered how much trouble he'd be in if he just snatched it back. As if sensing his thoughts Doniya licked the entire length of the breadstick.

_Gross_. He scowled. “You little—”

“He has a boyfriend.”

Zayn promptly forgot how to breathe.

Doniya scoffed around her mouthful of breadstick. “That's not news. Zayn always has boyfriends. And girlfriends.” She glanced to make sure their parents weren't watching. _Man-whore,_ she mouthed.

“ _Doniya Malik._ Language.” Apparently their mum had eyes in the back of her head.

“What?? I didn't—”

“Apologize to your brother.”

“But he's the one who—”

Tricia gave her The Look, the one that said there would be hell to pay if she even thought about talking back.

Doniya's mouth tightened. “Sorry, Zayn.”

“No!” Waliyha looked flustered. “A boyfriend. An actual. Official. Boyfriend. They're _dating.”_

The entire table fell silent.

Zayn glared daggers at his little sister.

Waliyha sat there, preening at the attention from having revealed the juiciest gossip of the week.

Tricia set down her fork. “Zayn, is this true?”

Zayn kept glaring. His parents didn't really need three daughters, right? Two was a nice number.

Waliyha caught his gaze and shrunk back a little, her smug smile faltering.

“Zayn stop looking at your sister and answer me now.”

He could make do with just two sisters.

“Zayn,” Yaser snapped.

Zayn flinched and his eyes flickered to his father and then back down to the tablecloth.  “Yes. It's true.”

The table exploded into a cacophony of voices.

“How could you not—”

“—kidding me?”

“—lying about—”

“Are you—”

“—been going on?”

“Is he hot?”

“Enough,” Yaser broke in again.

“They were holding hands,” Waliyha added in a rush. Yaser glanced at her in warning before turning back to Zayn.

“Who is he?”

“A friend of Harry's,” Zayn mumbled. “From Holmes Chapel.”

“And does this ‘friend of Harry's from Holmes Chapel’ have a name?”

Zayn took a deep breath. “Liam Payne.”

“I want to meet him. You can bring him here.”

Zayn's eyes shot up to meet his. “Dad—” he whined.

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Zayn glanced around the table. Everyone had to see how ludicrous of a request that was. “I can’t. That's too short notice—”

“Actually,” Tricia butted in, “I happen to know that you boys are getting together tomorrow afternoon at Harry's flat. I saw it on Facebook.” She sounded awfully proud of herself.

Zayn gaped at her. “How did you find out from _Facebook?”_

Tricia's smile had a sly edge to it. “Oh Harry is such a sweet boy.” Zayn barely held back a groan. Harry was too naive and couldn't refuse anyone. And Zayn's mum was cunning. “He friended me.”

Zayn mentally added Harry to his ‘Forever Dead to Me’ list.

“Oh he could come for brunch,” she continued, sounding pleased.

“Brunch,” Zayn repeated in a flat voice.

Yaser gave him a grim smile. “That sounds like a great idea. Brunch. 11:30. We'll see this _Liam_ tomorrow.”

 

+

 

“Uh huh.”

“—and I don't know what to—”

Niall picked absentmindedly at his quilt. “Uh huh.”

“—out of nowhere—”

A packet of crisps came flying through the air and hit him in the middle of his bare chest. Niall looked over to see Katie standing by the side of his bed. She was wearing one of Niall's t-shirts and her pants. And nothing else.

“Thanks, babe.”

“What?”

“What?” Niall tucked the mobile between his ear and shoulder and opened the bag. “Oh, not you.”

“Do not,” Zayn screeched in his ear, “tell me you're getting off with some girl right now.”

Niall smirked, watching Katie get back into bed. She straddled his thighs for a moment before sliding over to the other side of him. “I guess I won't tell you then.”

“I'm in crisis here! We’re supposed to have brunch in less than a half an hour.”

Niall rolled his eyes and stuffed a handful of crisps in his mouth. Beside him Katie was eating from a bag of her own and watching the tv on low volume. “You’re not having a crisis.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do know that.” _When did Zayn become such a worrier? Liam must be rubbing off on him._ Niall let out a soft snort. _'Rubbing off on him.'_ _Good one._

“Stop laughing at me.” Zayn's voice sounded muffled, quieter. “This is a disaster.”

“Zayn,” Niall said around the crisps in his mouth. He swallowed. “Here's what's going to happen. Liam will show up all, you know, Liam-ish. Your mum will coo over him. He'll do that bond of mutual respect thing with your dad. And your sisters will love having someone else besides you to bother so much that they won't care about anything else.” Niall ate another crisp. “Your family will love him. Just like you—”

“Don't—”

“—love him.”

_“Niall.”_

“Fine, fine. Just like you like him a lot or whatever. The point is everyone is going to get along. Liam's great, your family is great”—Niall emptied the last of the crisps into his mouth—“it's going to be okay.”

“But—”

“Speaking of Liam,” Niall said raising his voice to talk over Zayn, “have you called him yet?”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Not since last night. Which was also when I was trying to call you for ages by the way. Why didn't you pick up?”

Niall shrugged. He dropped the crisp bag into the bin next to the bed. “My mobile was off. I was busy.”

“All night?”

Niall glanced at Katie. “All night.”

Katie smirked and threw her own empty crisp bag at his head, her eyes still glued to the tv. Niall laughed and he heard Zayn's groan through the phone. He turned his attention back to him.

“You should talk to Liam. He's probably freaking out even more than you.”

“Yeah.”

Niall's eyes narrowed. He knew that tone of voice. “But...” he prompted.

“But. What if you’re right? What if he is freaking out? What if he's panicking and decides it’s too much? That it’s not worth it.”

Niall could clearly hear the 'What if he decides _I'm_ too much? That _I'm_ not worth it?' hidden between Zayn's words.

“Liam is panicking,” Niall said in a placating tone. “But it's only because he cares about you and doesn't want to fuck up.”

There was a pause and then— “If you were going for comforting, you kind of missed your mark.”

Niall heard the soft click of the tv shutting off and glanced over at Katie, distracted. He watched as she set down the remote and moved toward his side of the bed, curling up next to him. She brushed her hand across his torso, raising a finger to draw slow circles on his skin.

“Niall?”

Niall blinked, grasping for the thread of the conversation. “Then how about this,” he said, wrapping an arm around Katie's shoulders. “Liam doesn't give up that easily. Especially when it comes to you. You know that.”

“Oh so now I’m difficult and he’s just putting up with me.”

Niall inhaled sharply. Katie had moved onto placing kisses on his chest. “Ex- exactly. That’s exactly what you should take away from what I just said.”

Zayn grumbled unintelligibly and Niall's attention drifted again. He turned his head, catching Katie’s lips with his own. He was only playing stand in for the real conversation Zayn needed to be having with Liam anyway.

“But—”

Niall groaned, pulling away from her. “Zayn.”

“Niall! Brunch is supposed to start soon—”

“Then go downstairs and talk to Liam because he’s probably been standing outside your front door, terrified.”

There was only the sound of startled silence on the other end of the line.

Nevertheless, Niall knew what Zayn really meant was _'Wow you're so right, Niall, you're the best friend ever, thank you so much.'_

What he got instead was a muffled _'Oh shit'_ and the click of Zayn finally hanging up the phone. “You're welcome,” Niall muttered, shoving the mobile back under his pillow.

“Finally.” During the last few seconds of the call Katie had taken the opportunity to straddle his lap.

Niall narrowed his eyes at her. “You're a menace.”

She laughed. “Oh am I?” She bit her lip, staring down at him while she made a slow and deliberate shift with her hips, rocking against him.

Niall let out a low groan, his hands flying up to her waist to hold her there. “A sexy, wonderful menace.”

Katie laughed again, wriggling back out of his grip. “That's what I thought.” Her fingers drifted up and down his forearms. “So was everything okay?”

“Yeah. Zayn is doing the boyfriend meeting the parents thing.”

“Hmmm.” She slid further back and leaned over, brushing her nose lightly along Niall's collarbone. “They don’t approve?” She placed a small kiss below his ear.

Niall's hands settled on her thighs. “Nah. They'll love Liam. And even if they didn't they'd pretend to for Zayn's sake.”

Katie's face hovered over his, her long dark hair falling around them. Niall grinned up at her. “He's completely head over heels for Liam, but he hasn't realized it’s written all over his face yet.”

Niall's grin turned sly. “But”—his hands tightened around her legs and he rolled over, exchanging their positions—“I don't really want to talk about Zayn and Liam right now.”

Katie licked her lips, her hand snaking up to grab the back of Niall's neck. “Neither do I.” She pulled him down, bringing their mouths together.

Niall's hands went to her waist, rubbing up and down her sides. He loved the way she felt underneath him.

He'd met Katie last summer when she'd come into town to visit her cousin, who happened to be a friend of Niall's brother. They'd hit it off and hooked up a few times, but it was never serious.

It'd been nice—Katie was funny, laid back, gorgeous and neither of them were looking for anything past casual. She'd recently gotten out of a bad relationship and Niall... well it wasn't that he was _afraid_ of commitment exactly, he just didn't seem to feel that pull to pair up like everyone around him did.

They hadn't kept up much contact during the school year, but it wasn't like he was going to turn her down when she’d texted that she was back in Haslington.

Katie broke the kiss, panting against his mouth. Her back arched and one of her legs came up to wrap around his waist. Niall let out a soft grunt as she tugged him closer.

He pressed kisses across her jaw and was starting on her neck only to let a muffled sound of surprise as she flipped them back over.

Katie grinned down at him, her cheeks flushed. “Gotcha.” Slowly, as if daring him to do something about it, she moved his arms above his head, pinning his wrists with her hands.

Niall wriggled a bit, not really trying to break her hold. “It's going to be that kind of morning, then?” Always trust Katie to keep things interesting.

“Mhmmm,” she murmured, nodding. Niall's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned in. He felt her give him an Eskimo kiss and then— nothing.

He let out a whimper of disappointment when he lifted his hips and only felt air. “No”—Niall opened his eyes to Katie moving off the bed—“where are you going?” he asked, sitting up.

There was a smirk on her face as she backed away and Niall couldn't help but trail his eyes over her. _God, she has fantastic legs._

“It's late. I've got to meet Sam for lunch soon—”

“Not for ages. She won't mind if—”

“—and I'm still in desperate need of a shower.” Katie disappeared through the door that led to the bath.

Niall groaned and flopped back onto the bed, adjusting himself. What was he supposed to do now?

“But”—His head popped up to see Katie leaning against the doorframe—“I wouldn't mind some company...”

Niall was up and across the room before she even finished her sentence. Katie laughed, slipping two fingers into his waistband and tugging him into the bathroom behind her.

 

+

 

“Oh shit,” Zayn breathed. He hung up his mobile and was out of his room and darting down the stairs the next second.  “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

Niall was right. Of course Niall was right (and he was probably going to be insufferably smug about it too).

“Stay!" Zayn called out as he shot through the living room where his family was not so subtly hovering. He had to get there before—

The doorbell rang right as his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

He heard Waliyha say something along the line of “What is he, psychic?” but Zayn was already slipping out the door and shutting it tightly behind him. His family might stay put for now, but it wouldn't be for long.

Liam was staring at him blankly, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. He did indeed look terrified.

Zayn placed a hand on his chest and sternly reminded himself that this was not the time to get distracted by Liam's pectoral muscles. “Breathe.”

Liam nodded and sucked in a noisy breath.

“We’ll get through this. Stop looking so nervous.”

Liam’s mouth tightened. “You look nervous. That's making me nervous.” His gaze lowered to fiddle with the flower arrangement. “You didn’t even want us to meet in the first place.”

Zayn grimaced and tried to quash the bit of guilt prickling at him. “That’s not true.”

Liam's eyes rose to meet his with an unimpressed expression.

“Okay,” Zayn conceded. “It’s sort of true.” He brushed an imaginary speck of lint off Liam's shoulder and ignored the slight tremble in his fingers. “I just really want them to like you. It’s important.”

Liam gave him a weak smile. “Got it. You'll hate me if your family hates me.”

There was an awkward pause. 

“I-"

“Zayn!” His mother was calling from inside.

Zayn took a deep breath as the doorknob turned ominously. “It'll be fine.” He placed a hand on the small of Liam's back. The front door swung open.

_It'll be fine._

He guided Liam into the house.

+

Brunch went fantastically of course, exactly as Niall had predicted. Tricia cooed over how adorable and polite Liam was and kept plying him with more and more breakfast foods.

Waliyha was unusually quiet, but every time Liam so much as glanced in her direction her cheeks turned bright red. Zayn didn't know whether to be horrified or amused, but at least she had good taste.

Liam, on the other hand, couldn't stop blushing at Doniya's sly innuendos (which she found hilarious because nothing she did ruffled Zayn anymore).

And Safaa was shy at first, but eventually she opened up and was currently engaging Liam in a rousing discussion about dinosaurs.

“So,” Yaser said once it'd been established that stegosaurus were nice, but velociraptors were cooler. “How did you two meet?”

Zayn’s father had been noticeably reserved so far, instead choosing to quietly observe Liam’s every move. For the most part Liam seemed to be doing an amazing job of not letting it get to him. Maybe because he was used to Zayn’s tendency to do the exact same thing.

“Oh, was it love at first sight?” Waliyha broke in, only to make a tiny squeaking noise when Liam grinned at her.

“We met when Harry took me along to one of Niall's parties,” Liam said, addressing Yaser. He turned back to Waliyha. “And no, not exactly.”

Zayn huffed. “We hated each other.”

“I never hated you.”

Zayn fought back a grin at Liam's indignant tone. “Uh huh. Mild dislike then.”

“Yeah but, how did you get him to _date_ you?” Doniya asked Liam, leaning forward. “That does _not_ happen.”

“...I asked him?” There was a skeptical expression on Doniya's face. “He said no, of course,” Liam assured her. “Twice.”

“That sounds more like my brother.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Well after the second time he gave up. Left me for someone else. Dorene.”

“ _Danielle_. And it was two dates.”

Zayn made a derisive snort.

Liam sighed, a hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. “You're never going to let that go are you?”

“Nope,” Zayn said, popping his lips on the 'p' sound.

“After that I—”

“He came crawling back once he realized he couldn't possibly live without me.” Zayn was unconsciously leaning closer to Liam, a smug smile on his face.

“I came crawling back?” Liam shifted closer as well. “I seem to remember finding out how awfully miserable you'd been without me and graciously offering you another chance...”

“Offering?” Zayn echoed, a suggestive lilt to his voice. “I'm not sure if _offering_ is the word I would use.”

Liam's cheeks pinkened, no doubt remembering exactly how he ‘persuaded' Zayn into dating him that night at the party.

“But you don't deny that you were miserable,” Liam pointed out.

“Well.” Zayn's voice dropped a little softer. “Maybe a little.”

“Yeah?”

He felt Liam's hand settle on his thigh and without a second thought Zayn covered it with his own, their fingers intertwining.

“Yeah.”

It wasn't until then that Zayn realized the warm feeling he'd been having throughout brunch was pride. He'd been so worried about everyone meeting, but this felt right. He was proud of Liam. Proud of how well he was getting along with Zayn's family.

Proud of himself for taking a risk and getting a chance at having this.

Someone cleared their throat.

Zayn started. He looked up to catch his father staring at him with raised eyebrows and an amused expression. Zayn cleared his throat as well, pretending he couldn't hear his sisters’ and mother's poorly stifled giggles.

“And I guess”—Zayn glanced at Liam, their hands still clasped together under the table—“that's about it.”

+

Liam, being the good boy that he was, offered to help wash the dishes after they'd finished eating.”You're so sweet Liam,” Tricia said, shooing him out the kitchen. “But no guest of mine is going to clean in my house.”

Yaser came up behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. “And no one who cooks a wonderful meal for their family is going to clean up either,” he murmured in her ear. Tricia laughed and turned around, drawing him into brief a kiss.

Zayn averted his eyes and went back to putting the dishes in the dishwasher. He had no desire to see his parents making out like teenagers thank you very much.

With a resigned sigh, he scraped the scraps from a plate into the rubbish bin. Leaving Liam alone with his mum and sisters was just asking for some sort of embarrassing disaster.

“Your first boyfriend,” Tricia said, coming over and ruffling his hair. “You two seem good for each other. I'm happy for you.” Zayn smiled up at her. “Don't think that's going to stop me from breaking out the photo albums though.” She winked and laughed again, turning away.

Zayn's grin slipped a little as she exited the kitchen. Liam wasn't exactly his first boyfriend. But the only other person who knew about that was... currently standing across from him.

Staring him down.

Zayn swallowed and rested the plate he'd been holding in the sink. He took a tea towel to wipe off his hands. For a second he considered trying to stall, but instead—

“I'm sorry,” Zayn blurted out. “I- I should have told you, I know. I just- it wasn't because—” He took a breath, nervously wringing the tea towel between his hands. “Liam's good. But. I had to be sure. I wanted to be sure before I told you. Please don't—”

_Don’t think he's a bad person. Don't make me stop seeing him._

His dad's impassive stare softened and he stepped forward. He placed his hands on Zayn's shoulders, staring at him for another heart wrenching moment before pulling him into a hug. Zayn felt his dad exhale shakily into his hair and Zayn clutched him back, his fingers digging into his shirt. They both took another few breaths and then Yaser began to speak.

“I get that you wanted to be sure, but I wish you didn’t feel like you have to figure out everything on your own. How am I supposed to protect you if...” He trailed off with a sigh.

“Sometime soon, really soon, we’re going to have _another_ long talk about trust and honesty and safety—but I'll leave it alone for now. This is supposed to be a happy day.”

He leaned away to look Zayn in the eye. “And you deserve to be happy, Zayn. After—” His jaw clenched. “After that—” He broke off again, his hands tightening around Zayn's shoulders as his eyes flickered away.

Zayn tried not to flinch out of his grip.

He could fill in the blanks well enough.

After last time. After Him _._

Zayn had been going through his angry adolescent angst phase and He had just seemed so _cool_ and He was interested in Zayn. _Zayn_. Shy, awkward Zayn who still felt uncomfortable in his own skin and had more emotions running through him than he knew what do with.

But He wasn't who Zayn thought he was.

Zayn ducked his head, a sneer forming on his face.

Little Zayn so fucking eager to play all grown up. To prove he wasn't just another dumb kid. So desperate to feel like he was worth something.

But he was just another dumb kid. And when he finally accepted that he was in too far over his head...

He'd called the one person he knew he could always count on to rescue him. He'd called his daddy to come and make everything all better again just like a little boy who’d fallen off his bike and scraped his knee.

Except this time it was worse than a scraped knee and this time he was huddled in an empty bath behind a locked bathroom door, hiding away from the monster that most certainly did not live under the bed.

And even with the image of his father standing over Him as He was hunched over on the floor, the heel his father's shoe digging into the small of His back—

_“If you ever come near my son again-”_

—even with that image seared into his mind, Zayn couldn't- he couldn't-

Zayn sucked in a ragged, wet breath.

Everything hadn't been alright again. It hadn't been in a long time.

His dad's hands were cupping his face, bringing him back to the present.

“After what happened,” Yaser started again, calmer this time, “I wasn't sure when you'd let someone in again. But you deserve this. You deserve someone who will love you as much as you love them. Someone who will treat you right.”

His forehead pressed against Zayn's. “I know you haven't always thought that was true,” he said, his voice gentle, but firm, "but you deserve this and I don't want you to ever forget that.”

Yaser pulled back, giving Zayn another somber look. He hesitated and then started to shake his head. “I should've—”

“Dad,” Zayn bit out.

It was an argument they'd had before. He knew his dad felt responsible for what happened. That he hadn't seen that something was wrong. But Zayn refused to let his dad feel guilty for his own stupid mistakes.

Zayn swallowed down a lump of guilt of his own. He knew Yaser not being able to tell anyone made things even worse. It wasn't fair to make his dad keep his secret. But Zayn couldn't have dealt with anyone else knowing. Having to explain it to anyone else. He’d been barely holding it together as it was, it would've broken him.

His dad sighed, letting it go. “And as for Liam...”

Zayn held his breath. This was what he'd been waiting for. Yaser gave him an amused, knowing look. “Liam seems like a good kid. Not exactly who I saw you going for, but seeing you two together—your mum is right, you both seem good for each other.”

Zayn grinned back, happiness and relief flowing through him. He hadn't expected his dad to dislike Liam, but the verbal confirmation felt like a weight off his shoulders anyway.

Yaser's expression hardened. “But if that ever changes...”

Zayn exhaled through his nose. “I know.”

“Zayn.”

“I know,” Zayn repeated. His voice softened. “I promise.” It was a promise to himself as much as it was to his father.

Zayn saw the tension drain from Yaser's face.

“Good.”

 

+

 

Liam felt the knot in his stomach loosen as Zayn came out of the kitchen looking relaxed and happy. Zayn hadn’t said anything out loud, but Liam knew his father’s opinion meant a lot to him. His mum and his sisters seemed to like Liam well enough, but he wasn’t sure he’d gotten Yaser’s approval.

Zayn flopped down on the sofa beside him, snuggling into his side. Liam bent his head to whisper into Zayn's ear. “So did I pass?”

Zayn smiled up at him and instead of answering he wrapped his hand around the back of Liam’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Liam sucked in a startled breath, cheeks heating.

“Of course,” Zayn murmured against his lips. He pulled back and rested his head against Liam’s shoulder.

Heart pounding, Liam took a furtive glance around.

The girls were sprawled out in front of the tv, arguing over the remote. Zayn’s parents were having a conversation about something on the other sofa. No one seemed to have reacted at all.

Abruptly, Liam felt a wave of exhaustion crash over him. He swallowed down the sick feeling in the back of his throat. “I- uh-” He disentangled himself from Zayn, standing. “Sorry, but where’s the loo?”

“Straight down that hallway,” Tricia said. “The door on the right.”

“Thanks.” Liam headed in that direction, ignoring the way Zayn was staring after him.

Liam locked the door behind him and braced his hands against the sink. He took a deep breath.

_Come on Liam, pull it together._

He took another breath, closing his eyes.

There was a knock on the door.

He straightened up. “Ye- ah,” his voice cracked. “Yeah,” he tried again, “I’ll be—”

“Liam, it’s me,” came Zayn’s voice from the other side. “Let me in.”

Liam hesitated before unlocking the door. Zayn slipped inside.

Liam tried for a smile. “Sorry, I’ll just...” But Zayn’s face stayed somber, seeing straight through him. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around Liam in a hug.

Liam resisted for a moment before slumping against him. He pushed his face into the crook of Zayn's neck, breathing deeply. His heart rate calmed.

“Your family is really great,” he said finally.

Zayn’s hand stroked across his back soothingly. “Yours will come around.”

Liam swallowed, closing his eyes again.

Liam’s parents hadn’t exactly taken the news of his new boyfriend… well.

 

_Karen sniffed, dabbing her nose with the crumpled tissue in her hand. “But- but what about Danielle?”_

_It was the third time she’d asked that question._

_“Mum,” Liam pleaded quietly. Guilt pooled in the pit of his stomach. What kind of son made their own mum cry?_

_“She seemed like a nice enough girl. You were happy with her weren’t you? Why can’t you just—”_

_“Mum, I told you. Danielle is a nice girl, but I don’t feel that way about her. Not like with Zayn.”_

_Karen made an indignant noise. “Zayn.”_

_Liam clenched his teeth, staring down at the table. He loved his mum, but sometimes the way she said Zayn’s name made his blood boil and his mouth twist with the effort to hold back ugly, vicious words he wanted to say in return._

_“I mean we knew, I knew”—she raised her voice so that his dad could hear from where he was sitting in the living room—“I tried to tell you didn’t I”—her voice dropped back down—_ “ _I suspected something was going on, but I didn’t think you’d take it this far. A boyfriend, Liam? Really? I thought when you started dating Danielle…”_

_She reached out to cover his hand with her own. “What happened with her? You two were great together.”_

_Liam kept silent this time._

_There was a loud sigh from his dad in the living room. “Oh come on Karen, what did you expect?” His eyes were glued to the football match on the tv. He hadn't looked at Liam since he’d said the word ‘dating’._

_“Always told you that poofter Harry would rub off on him,” he muttered. The match went to commercial and he rose from the recliner with a grunt. He passed them in the kitchen, taking a beer from the fridge. “So”—his eyes stayed on the bottle, popping the cap off—_ “ _does this mean you’re done with girls then?”_

_“No.” Liam wished he would just look at him. “I still like girls too.”_

_Geoff turned back towards the living room. “Well thank God for that at least.” He flopped into the recliner again, taking a swig from the bottle._

_His mum sighed. “Well then you and Danielle could still—”_

 

Liam groaned, lifting his head from Zayn’s shoulder. “I wish they’d come around _faster.”_ A flash of anger shot through him and he pulled away from Zayn completely.

His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides. “They shouldn’t have to _come around_ at all.”

As quickly as it came his anger gave way to guilt. His parents were trying. It wasn’t like they’d kicked him out or stopped him from visiting Haslington. Their only son had just told them he was dating a boy. They should get some time to adjust.

“Hey”—Zayn stepped towards him, looking him in the eye—“don’t do that. You’re allowed to be angry.”

Liam leaned against the sink, his arms folded over his chest. “It’s not like I expected it to go perfectly, you know? But I didn’t know…”

How much it would hurt. How it would feel to know his parents might love him just a little bit less.

“...I didn’t know it’d be like this.”

Zayn reached out and unfolded his arms, taking his hands in his own. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“At least you told yours.” Zayn gave him a half-hearted smile. “My mum had to find me with my hand down the neighbor boy's pants.”

Liam let out a breath of laughter. “She didn’t.”

“She did. I thought she wasn’t home, but there she was, in my room with a basketful of laundry. She dropped it. Clothes went everywhere. She screamed. I screamed. He screamed.” Zayn laughed. “It was a bit of a mess.”

There was a grin on Liam’s face, but it faded the next moment. “She was fine with it afterwards though. That he was a guy.”

Zayn’s smile dropped as well. “Yeah.” His thumb rubbed across the back of Liam's hand in a comforting gesture. “But it’s not all bad, right? Your sisters are helping, aren’t they?”

Liam nodded and the weight on his shoulders felt a little less heavy. His sisters had been surprised, but otherwise enthusiastic about the news. Even though they were both away at uni, they'd tried to help as much as they could. It was nice, not having to be the only one defending himself to their parents.

 

_There was a knock on his door and Liam took out one of his earbuds as his dad entered his room. Geoff cleared his throat and Liam sat up on his bed._

_His dad’s eyes were darting around the room, not lingering on anything for too long, including Liam. He looked uncomfortable._

_“So your sisters tell me that apparently I’m 'not allowed' to say the word poofter anymore.” His eyes rolled heavenward for a moment, like this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. “I didn’t mean it like— I’m not—” He made an irritated sound. “The kid is a poof, he just is."_

_Liam blinked at him and then looked down, fiddling with his headphones._

_He heard his dad exhale and felt him sit down heavily next to him on the bed._

_“Don’t... don't tell your sisters I said that.”_

_Geoff rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Harry is a good kid. And I think whatever people want to do in their own homes is their own business. You know that.” He paused. “But your sisters say that apparently we haven’t been as 'sensitive' to this whole thing as we should be._

_“Liam”—he was addressing the closet door in front of them—_ “ _you’re my son. You’ll always be my son. No matter who you’re… with. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not waiting for you to go back to dating girls.” He sighed, his voice lowering. “But even if you don’t… I still…” He exhaled forcefully again. “You’re still my kid, alright.”_

_He turned, giving Liam a hard, searching look. It felt like the first time they had met eyes in days. His dad must’ve found whatever he was looking for though because his gaze broke away and he stood up._

_He gave Liam an awkward pat on the shoulder before moving towards the door._

_“Good talk.”_

 

Liam shook his head at the memory. His dad wasn't big on heartfelt ‘I love yous’ but he'd gotten his point across in his own sort of messed up way. “Yeah, my sisters have been talking to them a bit. It helps.”

“And”—the steady motion of Zayn's thumb across his skin stuttered a second then resumed—“you have me.” Zayn’s eyes flickered away and then back at Liam. “Right?”

Liam couldn’t help but smile. Even though he was the one that practically had to beg Zayn to go out with him, for some reason Zayn was the one who was more insecure about their relationship. He hid it well, but Liam could tell Zayn wasn't 100% sure Liam wasn't just going to disappear one day.

Liam pulled out of Zayn's hands and cupped his face instead. He leaned forward in gentle kiss, his lips pressed against Zayn's.”Yeah,” Liam said softly. “I have you.”

Even with the mess with his parents Liam hadn't considered giving Zayn up for a second. He was worth all this and more.

Liam straightened from where he’d been leaning against the sink.  It was time to stop hiding in the loo. “Come on. Let's get out of here.” He grinned. “We wouldn't want your family getting any ideas.”

Zayn snorted, his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, I followed you two seconds after you left and we've been in here ages already. It's a little too late for that.” His bottom lip pushed out into a tiny pout. “Doniya is going to be insufferable.”

Liam's fingers curled around Zayn's wrist, drawing him away from the doorknob. He pressed forward, their bodies aligning and Zayn's back hit the bathroom door with a muted thud.

“Well then,” Liam murmured. His lips ghosted over Zayn's jawline to that spot on his neck that never failed to make Zayn's knees feel a bit weak. “I guess we might as well stay a little longer.”

 

+

 

“I can't believe you're leaving me,” Louis whined, walking into the living room. He was juggling a few cans of soda and a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

“It's not that long. Just the summer holiday.” Harry was sitting on the sofa, flipping through channels on the tv.

Louis set the drinks on the coffee table and flopped down next to him. “Just the summer, he says.” He put his head in Harry's lap and propped his feet up on the armrest, the bowl resting on his stomach. “That's basically an eternity.”

After classes ended Harry was going back to Holmes Chapel for summer break. Louis was staying here in Haslington. It felt as if they’d just gotten together and now they had to spend weeks apart.

Harry's hand started to card through his hair. “We'll visit each other.”

Louis wasn't sure how true that was.

Ironically enough, they both were going to be busier during the summer than they were during the school year. Harry would be in Holmes Chapel working in the same bakery he did every summer and any time off he had was probably going to be spent with his family, making up for lost time.

Meanwhile, Louis was once again being subjected to the utterly unglamorous job of taking tickets and sweeping up popcorn at the cinema. He didn’t like it, but it was worth it to not have to ask his mum for money she didn’t have. When he wasn’t working he’d be babysitting his sisters and carting them around to their different activities.

Louis let out a dissatisfied grunt. He took some popcorn from the bowl and stuffed it in his mouth. “I don't know," he mumbled around the food. "What if you leave me for some- some _bakery groupie.”_

Harry snorted and looked down at him. “What? There's no such thing.”

Louis tilted his head back, narrowing his eyes at Harry. “I've seen you in an apron, Styles. Trust me, your baked goodies will bring all the girls to the yard.” He mulishly pushed another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “And boys.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well then,” his voice dropped to a low, husky tone as his hand brushed across Louis' jaw, “I suppose it's a good thing you're the only one I want.” His finger was tracing along Louis' lips and Louis playfully nipped at it.

Harry laughed. “Besides the only one my baked goods really bring to the yard is Mrs. Williamson, who I'm pretty sure is more interested in showing me new pictures of her grandkids.” He wrinkled his nose. “She always smells like cough syrup and cats. And she likes to pinch my face.” His hand covered one of his cheeks as if the woman was going to appear suddenly.

“Well then there you have it. A bakery groupie.” Louis raised his eyebrows. “I might have to go see this _Mrs. Williamson_ and have a little chat with her about keeping her hands to herself.”

Harry grinned down at him and resumed playing with his hair. “You're ridiculous.”

He sounded hopelessly fond.

“You're ridiculous,” Louis' retorted. It wasn't his best work, but if you had Harry Styles staring down at you like that you'd have trouble producing intelligent conversation too. Louis' found his hand lifting up to touch Harry's face. He stopped, averting his eyes and dropping his hand.

“I'll be sure to let Mrs. Williamson know to expect you then.”

“Yeah,” Louis said quietly, not really paying attention. He moved the bowl to the coffee table and wiped his hands on the front of his shirt. The popcorn had left a sour feeling in his stomach.

The selfish part of him desperately wanted to ask Harry to stay.

He couldn't though. Harry tried to hide it, but Louis knew it got hard for him being away from his family so much. He missed them terribly. Louis himself couldn't imagine leaving his mum and his sisters for even a couple weeks, let alone the entire school year.

And yet Harry was going to do it all over again next term. What Louis needed to do was be strong and make this easier for Harry, not harder.

Still…

_Stay. Don't leave me._

Louis pressed his lips together, holding back the words.

“I'll miss you,” he said instead.

Harry let out a small sigh. He lifted Louis' head from his lap and rearranged himself so he was lying behind Louis on the sofa. “I'll miss you too,” he said, wrapping his arm around Louis' middle.

A sad, heavy silence fell over them before Louis broke it with a groan. He was tired of moping. If he got anymore mopey he might actually cry and that was just unacceptable. Louis twisted around and threw his leg over Harry's, cuddling close to him.

“I suppose there's always Skype sex,” Louis mumbled into Harry's collarbone.

Harry chuckled and Louis nuzzled at his neck, loving the rumbling feeling as he laughed. “Oh I see how it is. You only want me around for my body.” Harry sniffed. “Is that it? Am I just a dick with a pretty face to you?”

Louis suppressed a smile, giving Harry his best bedroom eyes. “Well, to be fair”—Harry let out a groan as Louis snuck a hand down between them, cupping him through his jeans—“you do have a rather pretty dick, too.”

“Louis, we can't.” Even as he spoke Harry's hips were moving, pressing up into Louis' palm. “The others will be here soon.”

There was a sly grin on Louis' face as he gave Harry one more stroke before removing his hand entirely. Harry blinked and his breath started to even out, but before he could fully refocus Louis was sitting up and straddling his legs.

“We have time.” Louis smirked, grinding down on Harry's lap. “Don't we?”

Harry made a small whimpering noise, his eyelids falling shut.

“Harry,” Louis murmured, drawing his name out. His hands were resting low on Harry's torso, fingers digging into his shirt, pushing it up. “Don’t we?”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip. His eyes opened the barest hint and he nodded.

A predatory grin spread over Louis’ face. He leaned forward, burying a hand in Harry’s hair and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good boy.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just get on with it.”

Louis laughed and went back to pressing slow kisses down his neck, pausing only to tug Harry’s shirt completely off.

Louis loved taking him apart like this. Slowly. Thoroughly.

He and Harry had jumped into the physical side of their relationship with lots of enthusiasm if not finesse. Louis had never done much of anything, and nothing at all with a guy. To be completely honest he’d been sort of intimidated by Harry’s experience. But gradually they’d both grown more comfortable, learning to read the ins and outs of each other’s bodies.

And now... well now Louis could play Harry like a fiddle.

Louis made his way down Harry's chest, a kiss here, a bite there. By the time he reached the soft trail of hair below Harry's belly button, Harry was panting beneath Louis' mouth, his fingers digging half moons into Louis' shoulders.

Louis slowed for a moment, admiring the flush across Harry's face that had long since spread down his neck and chest.

Harry made a noise of frustration at the lack of movement and started to wriggle beneath Louis' hands. _“Louis.”_

Louis murmured something placating against his skin, still teasing him, his lips inching closer and closer towards Harry's waistband.

“Louis plea-” Harry's words dropped off into a low whine as Louis popped open the top button of his jeans and slid his hand into Harry's pants, his fingers curling around him.

At the same moment Harry bucked up into his hand, there was a knock and the distinct sound of the front door being opened.

In a spectacular display of coordination both boys flailed, Harry unbalancing Louis in his haste to sit up, Louis tilting sideways, his hand still firmly lodged inside Harry's jeans—they fell off the sofa in a tangle of limbs, missing the coffee table by inches. 

Chaos reigned for a minute or so while Harry and Louis disentangled themselves and Liam and Zayn rolled their eyes and groaned at catching the two of them in yet another compromising position.

Zayn wrinkled his nose. “The sofa? Really? We have to sit on that.”

Liam snorted, heading towards the kitchen. “Not anymore we're not.”

Harry had found his shirt on the floor and was tugging it back on. “I thought you guys weren't coming until 1:00?”

Zayn flopped down sideways into the armchair, his legs dangling over the armrest. “It is 1:00.” He snagged the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. “I texted Louis ten minutes ago that we were on our way.”

Harry folded his arms, turning to face Louis.

Louis shrugged and tried to appear apologetic. Well he wasn't trying that hard. “Come on, don't look at me like that.” He sidled up to Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You know how forgetful I am when I get distracted.” He murmured the last word suggestively, his lips almost touching Harry's.

Harry held stiff for a moment and then relaxed. “You better make it up to me.”

Louis grinned. “Of course I will.” He curled a finger under Harry's chin, pulling him into a kiss.

Truth be told Louis had taken to this boyfriend thing like a fish to water. Not that it was all that dissimilar from having a girlfriend really, but somehow this just felt different. He didn't know if it was because he was with a guy or just because it was Harry, but he was sure he'd never felt this way before.

Going from 'friends' to 'more' had been easy. In a way it felt more right than only being friends ever did.

Not that things were always perfect. Louis was still working out some of his insecurities, most of which stemmed from his own inexperience with guys in comparison to Harry. _(What if I do something wrong? What if he gets bored with me? What if he decides to go off with someone who actually knows what the fuck they're doing?)_

And between Harry's propensity for keeping things bottled up rather than risk an argument and Louis' tendency to lash out, sometimes their communication wasn't the best.

They also both had a possessive streak a mile wide.

And yet—

Neither of them could stay mad for long and more often than not their fights ended before they really began. Louis had a knack for teasing out what was really bothering Harry. Harry never got tired of reassuring Louis in the face of his self-doubt.

So no, they weren't perfect, but they worked.

Louis felt something hit the side of his cheek. He turned to see Zayn pelting bits of popcorn at them, still lounging in the armchair.

“Can't you two keep your hands off each other for more than two seconds? I actually didn't come here to watch the two of you make out.”

Louis pulled a face. “You're one to talk.”

Zayn looked Liam up and down as he came out of the kitchen carrying a water bottle. “True.” He sat up, grabbing Liam around the waist and pulling him into his lap.

Louis huffed. _Hypocrites_. He turned back to Harry, brushing their lips together.

The front door burst open again.

Harry let out a breath of laughter and Louis groaned, lowering his head to Harry's shoulder. “We really have got to start locking that door.”

“Alright, faces apart! I'm here.” Niall was standing in the doorway, a grin on his face. “Let's do this.”

 

+

 

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair as he watched the others crowd inside. Natalie hadn’t exactly forbidden having everyone over, but five teenage boys taking over her bathroom might've been pushing it.

He startled at a hand on his shoulder, looking up from where Niall and Zayn were setting down the bags on the bathmats.

Louis was standing beside him. “Thanks for letting us use your flat.” His hand dragged down Harry’s arm to encircle his wrist and he pulled Harry further into the bathroom. “Trying to plan things with little sisters around is usually a disaster. Plus Niall’s loo is tiny.”

The slight tension in Harry’s shoulders relaxed. Sometimes it felt as though Louis could read his mind. “It’s fine. Natalie’s supposed to be out all day anyway.” His fingers were crossed that any mess made would be kept to a minimum and gone before she got back.

It’s not like Harry could’ve said no to Louis anyway. That particular ability had yet to become a part of his skillset. And Louis was very persuasive when he wanted to be.

“So why are we doing this again?” It was Liam that had spoken, giving a wary look at the products Niall and Zayn were taking out.

Louis grinned at him. “It's tradition! Simon would be devastated if we didn't pull our end of the year prank.”

Technically, Liam didn’t need to be involved in this at all (seeing as he didn’t even attend Haslington), but Harry was glad he was here anyway. It was a relief to see how well Liam got on with Niall and Louis, especially now that he and Zayn had figured themselves out. It made Harry feel a little less like he had to choose between his new friends and his old one.

Liam picked up one of the bottles from the bags on the floor. “And this year the plan involves... Persil?”

Louis made a protesting noise. “Maybe.” He took the bottle from Liam, going over to sit on the toilet’s fluffy blue lidcover. “It's a very scientific process,” he said primly.

Niall rolled his eyes and took the soap bottle from Louis. He gestured to the others still on the floor. “Basically we're going to see which one makes the most bubbles.”

Harry tried to hold back a snort and Louis narrowed his eyes at him.

“What for?” Liam asked.

Louis brightened and leaned forward. “Liam, this is the year we take on _the_ _fountain.”_ He said the word with a kind of wild-eyed fervor.

Liam, on the other hand, seemed decidedly unimpressed. “So you're soaping a fountain?”

“Not just any fountain. _The_ fountain.” Louis shook his head. “Try to keep up, Liam.”

Harry intervened. “It was a donation from a few years ago. Everyone else kind of hates it. I don't think it's that bad, but—”

“But you just haven’t been here long enough,” Zayn interjected. He looked at Liam. “All you need to know is that it's huge, it's ugly, and it's in the middle of our front lawn.” There was a small scowl on his face and the words “complete offense to contemporary art” may have been muttered under his breath.

Niall, ever the voice of reason, added, “It’s an easy target. And it’s been long enough that Simon isn’t expecting it anymore.”

“Oh.” Liam tilted his head to look at Harry across the room. His eyebrows raised and Harry could clearly see the _‘are we seriously taking part in this?'_ in his expression.

Harry shrugged in response, a small smile on his face. “Well, it _is_ tradition,” he echoed.

_Tradition._

The word made him feel all warm and tingly on the inside. He and Liam were officially a part of their traditions now.

Liam let out a little huff of laughter, but nodded. “Okay, I’m in.” He crouched down to start taking out the rest of the stuff from the bags. “What’s first?” Louis joined in as well and Harry sat in his spot, content to watch for the moment.

It was hard to think that this time last year his life was practically unrecognizable from how it was now. Last year he'd turned into a person that ignored the best friend he’d known since he was four. Someone who didn't care about anything but himself and having a good time.

By the time he'd gotten kicked out of school Harry felt like he might've lost himself completely.

But then he came to Haslington and instead of it being terrible like he expected, he met Niall, Louis, and Zayn. He restored his friendship with Liam. He fell in love.

It was like his life had done a 180°.

And now he just felt lucky. And grateful to be a part of this.

“I'm really glad we're all friends.” The words were tumbling out of Harry's mouth before he even realized he was speaking. “I couldn't ask for better mates.”

The room fell into an abrupt silence and Harry blushed, but still couldn't suppress the pleased smile on his face. He was happy and he meant it.

The quiet dissolved into laughter.

Zayn was the first to recover. “Yeah, yeah we love you too, Harry.” The look on his face was fond, like he was barely managing not to reach out and ruffle Harry’s hair.

“We are pretty great, though aren't we?” Niall added.

Liam groaned. “You've always been such a sap.”

Louis finally took a break from his laughter and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, but he's our sap.”

Harry pouted. “I've changed my mind. You're all terrible.”

“Nah, you love us,” Niall said. And yeah, that was pretty much true. “No take backs.” He tossed Harry a clear bottle. “Now make yourself useful.”

“What's this for?”

“Vinegar," Zayn explained. "It's supposed to get rid of the soap so Simon doesn't actually kill us.”

Niall snorted. “Or Bill."

Bill was the grumpy caretaker who they'd managed to maintain a tenuous truce with thus far—mostly because the headmaster usually made them clean up any messes from their pranks as part of their punishment. 

“And that'll work?” Harry asked.

The rest of the room exchanged glances.

“...maybe,” Niall said. He sat on the edge of the bath and reached over to turn on the tap. “Only one way to find out.” He started unscrewing one of the soaps.

“Oh, wait.” Harry scrambled to retrieve a container from under the sink. “I bought this. It's water dye. I used it once for a pool party when I was younger.” He handed it to Niall who immediately added some to the bath, turning the water a deep red.

Niall's eyes widened a bit. “This is brilliant,” he breathed.

Zayn and Liam were peering over his shoulder. “It looks like blood,” Zayn said.

“Exactly.”

The two of them looked at each other with identical grins.

Harry felt Louis wrap his arms around him from behind. “Look at you and your clever ideas,” he murmured, his mouth brushing against the shell of Harry's ear.

“I can be clever.”

“Uh huh. Well it's good thing you're here. I have a feeling things are going to go really well this year.” They watched as Niall poured soap into the bath, slowly creating some sort of red foam monster. “I feel so organized this time around,” Louis continued. He exhaled in amusement. “Usually it's all chaos.” He nuzzled his face against Harry's neck. “Must be your influence.”

Harry knew that last bit was a total lie—Louis was smarter and more capable than people gave him credit for. There was no way they'd pulled off some of their past pranks without some planning going into it.

Harry bit back a smile, turning his head to face Louis'. It was nice anyway.

Louis was still staring back at him, his eyes sparkling the way they did when he was excited about something. His enthusiasm was always infectious. It reminded Harry of the first time they'd seen each other. Louis with his flushed cheeks and messy hair, his eyes dancing with mischievousness.

Even now, even though they'd been dating for awhile, Harry still got that same feeling when he looked at him. Breathless and flustered. Staring at Louis as if it'd hurt to look away.

Sometimes it seemed like the strength of his feelings should’ve been overwhelming and yet Harry couldn't imagine it as anything but right.

'Puppy love' his sister had called it.

Neither of them had said the words out loud yet, but sometimes Harry thought—

Well Gemma had teased him about puppy love before, but it had never felt like this. This was something new.

Harry would say it aloud eventually. He hadn't quite gathered the courage or found the right time. But he was sure.

_I love you._

Harry blinked slowly as he watched Louis' expression start to change. He was looking at Harry with slight curiosity, wondering what he was thinking about probably.

The moment was broken with a piercing wolf whistle.

Zayn was the one who made the noise. “Nice love bites there.”

Niall rolled his eyes and sat back down on the edge of the bath. Harry caught a glimpse of a bruise above his hip as Niall tugged down his shirt from where it'd ridden up.

“Wait, what?” Louis asked, stepping around Harry.

“I knew I heard a girl's voice," Zayn said with a smirk. “So you _were_ with someone this morning. And all last night apparently.”

“Anything you want to share, Niall?” Louis was inching towards him. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

Niall eyed him warily. “Oh no. I'm not telling you guys anything.”

“Come on.” Louis slid next to him and plucked at the front of his t-shirt. “Let's see then.”

Niall swatted at his increasingly insistent hands, saying something about boundaries.

“Just—”

“Whoa, don't—”

Harry inhaled sharply as Niall jerked a bit too far sideways and slipped off the edge of the bath. There was a yelp and a loud splash as Louis was dragged down too.

Harry skipped back a step, barely avoiding the tidal wave of water flowing across the floor. He grimaced.  Not only were the blue bathmats soaked, but they were turning an interesting shade of purple.

_I really hope that comes out. Or Natalie might actually kick my ass._

Niall and Louis seemed resigned to their predicament, both of them still in the bath, legs dangling over the edge. Louis had taken to playing with the bubbles, scooping large piles into his palm and blowing at them.

Niall was struggling out of his shirt that had already been tangled about his elbows and Zayn was leaning against Liam, dying of laughter.

“Ha, very funny,” Niall said. He narrowed his eyes at Zayn and balled up the sopping shirt, throwing it at him. 

Except Zayn must've been anticipating it because he managed to duck behind Liam at the last second. The shirt hit Liam's face with a wet smack.

Zayn laughed harder.

Louis, on the other hand, had switched his attention from the foam and was staring at Niall's chest. Which—Harry raised his eyebrows—was covered with love bites.

Louis echoed Zayn's whistle from earlier. “What did you do?” He poked one of the bruises. “Shag a vampire?”

Niall crossed his arms. “Maybe I like some biting.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” Louis caught Harry's eye. “Me too.”

Harry blushed. So _maybe_ he had a bit of a thing for giving Louis love bites. And _maybe_ he got carried away sometimes. But Louis wasn't the only one worried about being separated for the summer. And Harry tended to get sort of bitey when he was feeling possessive.

“Excuse me.” Liam had moved closer to the bath and was re-dunking Niall's shirt into the water. He turned back around, stalking towards Zayn with grim determination.

Zayn's eyes widened. “Wait wait wait, no, baby please—”

Liam wrung the shirt out above Zayn's head. He grinned.

Zayn's carefully styled hair was now completely flattened. He sort of looked like a disgruntled kitten.

Harry let out an involuntary snort of laughter and then his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

Four pairs of eyes snapped towards him.

Harry lowered his hand slowly. _Whoops._

“Um.” He took a step back.

“Harry”—Niall started to stand, sending another tidal wave of water out of the bath with him—“you look a little..."

“Dry,” Louis finished with a smirk.

The entire situation turned into a massive soap and water fight in a matter of seconds.

Harry was in the middle of rubbing piles of foam into Zayn's hair while Zayn attempted to pour water down Harry's trousers when the bathroom door swung open.

Natalie stood in the doorway, her hand still clutching the doorknob.

_Oh shit._

“Nat!” Harry stood awkwardly from where he’d been kneeling next to the bath. “I thought you weren't going to be back until later.”

“I...” Natalie was still staring around the loo.

Harry took a furtive glance around as well. Every inch of the room was drenched in water and filled with the overwhelming smell of lavender scented soap.

Zayn was avoiding eye contact and trying to smooth out his hair. Both Louis and Niall were in the bath again, standing in the bright red water. Niall was still shirtless and there was a makeshift soap bubbles hat atop Louis' head.

Somewhere crouching behind Harry was Liam, probably pretending he was invisible.

So all in all it looked pretty terrible and strange and possibly like they had murdered someone.

Harry laughed nervously. “Well, see—”

“No.” Natalie shook her head. “Nope. Don't even want to know.” She backed away from them. “I saw nothing.” She turned on her heel, going back down the hall.

Harry held his breath.

"My bathroom better be spotless by the time I get back, Styles!" Natalie called out. "And some double-fudge brownies wouldn't hurt!” There was the sound of the front door closing. And then silence.

Harry let out a whoosh of breath, relieved. He ran a hand over his face and sat down, unable to stop the rise of laughter bubbling up inside of him.

The rest of the boys joined in as the tension dissipated from the room.

“I thought we were dead for sure.”

“So did I!”

“Did you see her face though?”

The five of them ended up in a wet, soapy, giggling heap.

They stayed like that: Niall sprawled out over Harry's legs, Zayn cuddled between Liam and Louis, Louis with his arm thrown around Harry's shoulders.

Harry watched water drip from the edge of the sink vanity, adding to the pinkish pool spreading across the tiles. Everything was a mess. It'd probably take ages to clean up.

The adrenaline was wearing off and a chill was starting to set in.

His jeans were squishing uncomfortably against the waterlogged mat.

He felt sort of sticky.

And completely content.

Harry rested his head on Louis' shoulder and smiled.

He wouldn't wish for anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa. I can’t believe it’s done!! there were times I felt like I’d never get the final draft posted. I’m sad that it’s over, but happy to move on to new things. this was my first fic and I wasn’t sure if it was going to be any good and there was a lot of insecurity involved (more than I thought there would be omg) and then somehow I ended up with this massive word count (“somehow”=”lack of clear planning”). I’ve learned a lot and you’ve all been wonderful :)
> 
> thank you everyone for reading and your kudos and comments! I really appreciate it. come talk to me on [tumblr](http://beckonedbyhopes.tumblr.com)!
> 
> xoxo


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